Killing Game
by Kadi219
Summary: The loss of a fellow officer puts Major Crimes at work to figure out who killed him, and why.
1. Chapter 1

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

 **A/N:** This one has been bouncing around in my head for a little while. **Kate04us** encouraged it. As always, many thanks to the amazing beta **deenikn8** , all remaining errors are my own.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

The hour was late, and the night cool and damp. This was not unusual for late March. There was a definite chill on the air. Sharon pulled her blue trench coat more securely around herself as she moved through the crowd of police cars and officers. The blue and red flashing lights from the squad cars cast eerie shadows around the parking lot where their crime scene had been located. It was an all too familiar setup; one Sharon sometimes wondered that she was becoming too accustomed to. There was nothing at all usual, however, about being called out of her home on a night like this to respond to the death of a fellow police officer.

As she approached the center of the lot her eyes scanned the area in search of the members of her team. A white LAPD tent had been set up around the center of the crime scene, closing it off from view of the public and the news helicopters that were circling overhead. As Sharon neared the tent the clipped pace of her steps slowed. Andy was standing just outside the entrance waiting for her. There were moments when it truly felt as though they lived their lives between the darkness; that they existed between each case, each crime scene, and the hurt that those cases could provoke.

There was a grim expression on his face as she came nearer. It was a look that she had come to recognize as one of determined grief. A life had been cut short, ended well before its time, and he meant to find the person responsible. It was just a few hours ago that those same dark eyes had been sparkling back at her, that the thinned, downturned lips had been smiling with mischief while he said goodnight. He left her at her door with a kiss, laughing as he went because Rusty was making fun of them, something that her son did much more freely now. They had engaged in a moment of banter, the two men in her life, and she had pushed Andy away with a laugh of her own as she admonished the _boys_ to behave.

There was none of that joy present now. That man was hidden behind a wall. It was one that they all constructed; a way of protecting themselves from the darkness that surrounded them. When Sharon stopped in front of him, he took a step forward. They were always very careful in how they regarded each other during their working hours. Maintaining a professional distance was something that was important to both of them. There were moments when they brushed against that line, it was only human nature. They could not always suppress who they were as individuals. She was a woman who loved this man, her best friend, someone that she trusted implicitly and relied upon. He was more than a subordinate, he was a partner. That was a relationship that they had managed to strengthen while he was on desk duty the previous winter. They had always been able to read each other well, but the change in their relationship had given them a better understanding of one another. Her concerns that they would be able to work together _and_ carry on a romance were, not completely laid to rest, but no longer felt so strongly. So long as they continued to work at both sides of their equation, she thought that it could only make each side stronger.

As he moved into her personal space now, Sharon watched his gaze shift. Some of the hardness melted away. His look became one of concern and she felt an answering sense of worry begin to creep up her spine. There was always the chance when they answered these calls that the officer would be one that they knew. It was never a simple or easy matter to lose one of their brothers or sisters in blue; any loss of life was a tragic happenstance, but they all felt the ripple of grief when it was one of their own.

Sharon inclined her head at him. Her brows arched in askance. "What do we have Lieutenant?"

She was steeling herself for his response. Andy could see that in the walls that were coming up. It was in the way that her stance shifted. She was shoring up her professional mask and making certain that the woman was tucked firmly behind the Captain. Andy gave her just a moment more, and when her gaze did not waver, when her eyes flickered with careful curiosity and her lips thinned with determination, he took a breath. "We have an ID on our victim," he began. He kept the timbre of his voice low. They were far enough away from the police barricade and the reporters that were gathered on its other side that he was certain they would not be heard, but it was respect that had him speaking in a quieter tone. While he watched his Captain, it became more difficult for Andy to silence the man in him, the one that wanted to reach out and touch her arm as he delivered his next statement. He wanted to ground her, prepare her, but this was not the place for that and despite the words that were forming on his tongue, it was not the time either. "Sergeant Matthew Elliot," he stated plainly, "Professional Standards Bureau, Force Investigation Division."

Sharon held his gaze. There was something comforting there, a warmth behind the mask. She felt it, even as a sense of cold dread filled her and churned violently, she concentrated on that spark of warmth and used it to ground herself. _My Sergeant Elliot?_ The question was there, just on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it back. The Force Investigation Division no longer belonged to her; she had moved on and they reported to another. That did not stop the grief, and it did not wipe away the many years' worth of memories, respect, and camaraderie. Sharon inhaled a thin, shallow breath. She blinked only once at him. "Was the Sergeant alone at the time of his death?" There was only the slightest change in the inflection of her tone. It was the difference of only a single octave as her voice dipped lower and husked slightly. There was a building ache in her throat that she ignored. The initial report mentioned only a single victim, but it was late, well after hours. Elliot would have been off duty.

"Yeah." Andy continued to watch her closely for another moment. His gaze dropped to his notes. He had already committed all of it to memory, but he didn't want her to think that he was hovering. There was truly no way to brace yourself for what she was being told, and if she wanted a moment to further recapture her composure, he could give her that. "It appears that the Sergeant stopped at the gym on his way home. According to the manager, Elliot signed in a few times a week, always in the evening. Members have access twenty-four-seven, but there is only someone on shift until nine. After that, members can use a security badge to unlock the side door to get in. The manager is getting us access to that system, and we're pulling the footage from the security camera on that door." Andy looked up again. Her face was impassive but the eyes gave her away. They had darkened, lost their shine. "The Sergeant was found in his car," he reported, "it looks like he already worked out and was headed home for the night."

"I see." Sharon was still processing the details. She was filing each point away. She focused on the facts, and pushed the emotion aside. "Do we have a timeline yet?" They wouldn't have a definitive time of death until they had Morales's report, but it seemed to her that they were only dealing with the window of a few hours, and Kendall could give them a preliminary idea too.

"According to Lieutenant Wheaton, Elliot left the office around eight-thirty. He was wrapping up a report. He signed off on everything and that was the last that anyone in FID saw him." Andy arched a brow at her. "Kendall says that based on everything he would estimate time of death at around two hours." She wasn't looking at him anymore. Sharon's gaze had shifted to some point over his shoulder. She was staring at the tent flap, he realized. He had given her as long as he could to prepare herself for what was going to come next. They were going to have to step inside the tent where the remainder of their team awaited, along with the body of a colleague and friend.

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Sharon let her gaze drift back to the man in front of her. He was watching her so intently, waiting. She nodded once. There was no longer a reason to delay the inevitable. Sharon's back straightened when he turned and pulled back the flap. Sharon ducked her head only slightly as she moved beneath his arm and past his body to step into the tent. The atmosphere was solemn. Her officers and the technicians were going about their jobs quietly. That always seemed to be the case when the deceased was one of their own.

There was a time when Sharon wondered if she would ever become accustomed to the presence of death; to the sight and smell, and the way that the world shifted as she entered its presence. She could recall, only too clearly, the first time that she watched the life leave another human being. She was newly on patrol; she and her training officer were sent to the scene of an accident on the freeway. They were among the first responding officers. One of the victims was pinned inside his car. Sharon stayed with him while they waited for EMS to arrive. The helplessness, the pain that she felt at holding that man's hand while his life slipped away was not something that she had ever forgotten. He was dead when help finally arrived. There was nothing that anyone could have done for him. Sharon told herself that she never wanted to see that again, but it was not too long after that another life was lost, this time with a bullet from her own gun. She learned very early in her career that the preservation of life was not always a simple matter; that in serving her city quite often the pains and triumphs of her job went hand in hand. Now she knew very well that there was no getting used to death, not if you did your job well. She could step outside of herself, push her reaction to it to the back of her mind and carry on in spite of it, but she could not forget that suddenly the world was a little dimmer for a light removed before its time.

Her gaze swept the inside of the tent. Movement halted for a moment as her people realized that she had arrived. They looked to her and she saw the same grim determination in their eyes that Andy had greeted her with. She saw the same concern. Sharon greeted each of their gazes before her attention moved to the car at the center of the crime scene. The tent had been set up around it. For just a moment Sharon had to suppress the urge to smile and sigh. The paint of the black Camaro gleamed beneath the work lights that had been set up around the vehicle. When he had worked for her Matthew had driven a sedan, but for years he had spoken of having the chance to drive a sports car again. He waxed poetic and wistful about the classic Camaro that he had driven when he married his wife Lisa, but with the birth of their daughter he had exchanged that for a safer and more responsible vehicle. One day, he always said, one day he would drive one again. When the kids were out of the house and it was just him and Lisa, they would speed up and down the coast and forget that they were meant to be responsible.

Sharon felt a wave of emotion at that memory and of another, stronger scene that played out in her mind. She could recall two dark heads bent over brochures. Ricky had wanted a car for graduation so badly and had dreamed of bright muscle cars in that way that boys did. Elliot had sat with him in the FID bullpen, so many times, talking about horsepower and torque and all of the things that got them so excited about the vehicles. So many years, so many memories. How was this the end?

As she walked toward the car, Sharon moved around it on the passenger side. Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses as she took in the scene. She circled the vehicle slowly. The window of the passenger door was shattered. Glass littered the concrete pavement beneath her feet. She was careful to move around the area that had already been outlined by the SID technicians. There was blood spattered across the leather, gray passenger seat. She moved to the front of the vehicle and was able to gaze through the windshield. Elliot was slumped in his seat. Only the seatbelt held him upright. That indicated that he had either just arrived or was preparing to leave. From his attire, Sharon would have to agree with Andy's initial report; it looked as if he was heading home. His head was hanging forward, but the seatbelt had caught the weight of his body. There was blood down one side of his face from the single bullet entry. Sharon's jaw clenched. The exit wound was much larger and unsightly. She forced herself to set aside the nausea that churned in her stomach and the bile that rose hot and bitter in her throat.

When she reached the driver's side of the car, Sharon's brows rose. The window was down. It had not shattered inward from a bullet. She came to a stop beside the car. There were two bullet entry wounds. One to the head, and another to the chest. Whoever was responsible for the Sergeant's death had wanted to make sure that the deed was done; that was her first thought. The second was to wonder why his window was down. Had he known his killer? Sharon wanted to believe that impossible, but years of experience taught her otherwise.

The car door was open. Sharon watched as Kendall and the SID techs continued gathering evidence prior to removing the body. Buzz stood by, stoically filming as they, and the members of Major Crimes went about their jobs. Sharon watched for just a moment before she turned her attention to the members of her team. Provenza stood beside her now, and she was aware of Andy standing nearby, as close as he could without hovering. Sharon's gaze had quickly swept the rest of their crime scene. She saw none of the markers present that would indicate that shell casings had been collected. She found that both concerning and curious. Her head inclined in askance. "Lieutenant?"

He had studied her while she made her circuit of the crime scene. The Captain was holding herself stiffly, and the lines around her eyes and mouth were more pronounced. Provenza expected that. This wasn't easy on any of them, and he was sure that she had to be effected by it too, no matter her outward appearance. He nodded to the body in the car. They all knew Elliot. They had dealt with him over the years. Everyone knew that he was Raydor's little protégé, and that he had been her right hand while she was still in FID. Wherever she was, the Sergeant was never very far away. Those who were not part of Professional Standards always had something to say about it; there were the jokes and the comments, but at the heart of it, they were all cops. They understood it. A partner was a partner, and even when you moved on, those were bonds that were never completely severed.

"Kendall identified two gunshot wounds," Provenza stated. "We went over the area, along with SID and the first patrol officers that arrived on scene. We have not identified any shell casings. There is one exit wound," he kept to the facts, without embellishing, "Tao has already traced the trajectory based on where we believe that the Sergeant's killer was standing. The bullet was found lodged in the side of another vehicle. SID has it." He knew that he didn't have to tell her that they would match it to the bullet still inside the dead officer after Morales extracted it. There were just some things that could go unsaid. "We're working on getting the security camera footage and putting an exact timeline in place."

"Yes." Sharon turned where she stood and glanced at the other members of her team. "Lieutenant Wheaton has been notified?" The question was directed to Flynn, who had already mentioned the Lieutenant that had replaced her as head of FID during his initial report.

"Not about the death," Andy told her. "Just that we were looking for him. It's only a matter of time before this news spreads. Taylor hasn't spoken to the press yet."

"Big surprise," Provenza muttered. Their illustrious assistant chief was somewhere nearby on his phone, probably planning his first press conference. He shook his head. "We thought you would want to be involved in any notifications. We didn't know the identity of the victim until we arrived. The responding patrol sergeant has been around long enough to know that he needed to keep it quiet until the right people were involved."

Small favors, Sharon thought. Even those in Professional Standards had families, and those families were friends with others who had loved ones on the force. Rumors and news spread quickly, not just through the ranks of the LAPD. Police wives, husbands, and children talked. They did not need a concerned wife dropping by to see Sergeant Elliot's widow to offer condolences before the woman was even informed. The clock was ticking. Sharon fought the urge to grimace. That was not a conversation that she was looking forward to. Notifications were never easy, but this would be no stranger. She had known Lisa for as long as she had known Matthew. "Good work, Lieutenant." It was a small platitude and they both knew it. "I will speak to Chief Taylor. He can take care of contacting Lieutenant Wheaton. With any luck, I can get him to wait until after I have spoken to Sergeant Elliot's wife."

Flynn and Provenza shared a look. The elder lieutenant inclined his head at her. "Ah, Captain…" He gestured with his hands. "Maybe I should go with you to talk to the wife. We should find out where she was this evening." He was treading carefully, even for Provenza, but saying it wasn't any better than the fact that they were all thinking it. It wasn't always the wife, but it usually was. That was what made it tricky to investigate the death of someone they knew, no one wanted to believe that a loved one was involved. Provenza could see from the surprise that crossed her face before she schooled her features that the Captain was thinking the same thing.

Before Sharon could open her mouth, Andy took a step forward. "I'll stay here as incident commander." He would like to go with her, but Provenza had a point. They had to approach this like any other homicide investigation. They could say that they treated every investigation the same, but that just wasn't true. They would treat this differently because it was a cop; it was one of their own. It was because of that, and because of the fact that Andy knew they had to make damned sure that every _i_ was dotted and every _t_ crossed. When they found the killer there would be no question, and if any of them had their way about it, there would be no deal. Andy also knew that as good as they were getting at keeping work and their personal life separate, he would be worried about Sharon if he went with her. He would be paying more attention to her than he would be to Mrs. Elliot. He wouldn't be completely objective, and she was doing a good job of making it look that way, but Andy knew that Sharon couldn't be completely objective either. She needed back up, and that wasn't him, not right now. The best way to help her was to recognize that.

"I'll go with Sergeant Elliot." Julio walked around the car to join them. He looked between the two Lieutenants briefly before his attention was on his captain. "Tao and Amy are working on the area around the crime scene. I can go with the Sergeant and stay with him until you join us, Captain." Morales had already been called. The doctor never liked being pulled in to work at this hour, but there were a few cases that he would do it without question or argument for; dead kids and dead cops were at the top of that list.

Sharon smiled sadly at them. "Thank you, gentlemen. That will suffice. The Lieutenant is correct. We need to question Mrs. Elliot on her whereabouts this evening and make the notification. Let me know when Doctor Morales is ready for us," she told Sanchez, "unless we have joined you by then. Otherwise, I will see the rest of you back in the Murder Room. Lieutenant Provenza," she waved him toward the exit of the tent.

The Lieutenant preceded her to the exit. Sharon stopped and took one last look around the interior of the tent. She sighed quietly and gave a sad shake of her head. Death could come with no rhyme or reason, but she could not fathom the ending of one so bright. This was not the first time that she had questioned the cruelty that existed in their world. It was not theirs to question why, however, only to question the how.

Once they had left the tent, Sharon strode across the parking lot with her second in command beside her. They made their way through the throng of officers to the command center that had been set up at the edge of the gym parking lot. It was there that she found Assistant Chief Taylor. As they approached, he turned away from the officers that he was speaking to. Sharon recognized one of them as Captain Hoyer, head of the patrol division that was in charge of the barricades that had been placed around the crime scene. His uniformed officers would be keeping the public back and preserving not just the crime scene, but the dignity and privacy of their downed officer.

"Captain." Taylor tilted his head as she joined him. "I don't have to tell you that the clock is ticking on this one." She would know that very well on her own, for a multitude of reasons, her own connection to the case among them.

She didn't comment on that. Sharon's brows arched. "I understand that Lieutenant Wheaton has not been informed yet," she said instead. "Lieutenant Provenza and I are going to speak with Mrs. Elliot. The Sergeant's commanding officer and division need to be informed of what happened here this evening, but we would like to hold off until his wife has been notified."

"The last thing that we need is someone from FID getting to Mrs. Elliot before we do," Provenza pointed out. "Given the nature of the Sergeant's death, we would like to vet her first, just," he quickly added, when it looked like the Assistant Chief was going to interrupt him, "so that we can say that everything was done _by the book_."

Taylor shifted where he stood. He looked between the two of them. "Alright," he pointed a finger at them. "I can buy you half an hour. Then I am going to have to make a call before anyone in that division hears about this from outside my office." With the number of people that they had on scene, someone was bound to talk.

"We understand." Sharon nodded once. "The Elliots live nearby. Half an hour should be more than sufficient." She wanted the opportunity to notify Lisa herself, and while she would very much like to believe that the woman was not involved with her husband's death, as the Lieutenant had so carefully pointed out, in his own way, experience told them otherwise. There was a time when Sharon would have argued that fact, but that was before her transfer to Major Crimes, and before the Ally Moore case. Sharon was more reticent now, and that made the loss that she felt ache a little more keenly.

"Captain." Detective Sanchez appeared behind them. He spared only a momentary glance for the Chief. "Kendall is ready to move the Sergeant."

Sharon turned. She nodded once. "Thank you, Detective." She sighed quietly as her gaze travelled back to the line of officers that was forming between the tent and the coroner's van. They were creating a wall as well as showing respect. Kendall had pulled the van as close to the tent as he could, but the press would still have a view of their actions. The Sergeant's identity would be protected, but the media was going to know that the Department had lost one of its own. Time was ticking away. "Gentlemen." Sharon broke away from the small group and led the way back to where the rest of her team had appeared to stoically join the others.

Kendall didn't linger. He, and the other coroner's assistant that was with him quickly removed the sergeant's covered body from the tent. A hush fell over the parking lot as every officer that was present, whether they had joined the line of those paying their respects or were stationed elsewhere stopped what they were doing. He, sadly, had done this enough times to know to expect that. He also knew that none of them would move again until his van left the scene.

It was not until the van gained access to the street that Taylor turned where he stood. "You have your notification to make, Captain."

"Yes I do." She glanced to her left. "Lieutenant." As she made her way to where the vehicles had been left, Sharon sighed. It was going to be a very long night.

 **-TBC-**


	2. Chapter 2

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

They found themselves on a street lined with older houses. It was a quiet neighborhood located in that area of Echo Park that gave way to Silver Lake, middle class, with homes built in the forties and fifties. It was a mixture of wood and stone, rather than the more popular stucco and brick. Sharon studied the house from her place in the passenger seat of the unmarked Ford Explorer that Lieutenant Provenza had requisitioned for himself a few months ago. The Elliot home was a two-story structure. There were lights illuminating two windows of the first floor. She was able to recall the layout of the inside of the house from memory, although it had been a number of years since she had been inside; it was the family room that was lit, and although she was not as familiar with the upstairs, she would guess that at this hour it was the master bedroom's windows that were glowing with false cheerfulness on this dark night. Lisa Elliot was waiting for her husband to come home, and that was something that would never happen again.

"Someone is still up," Provenza remarked unnecessarily. He glanced at the Captain beside him before his gaze returned to the house. The Explorer had been parked on the street in front of it for several minutes, but neither occupant had made a move to get out and approach the house. "Did they have any kids?"

"Yes." Sharon's gaze shifted. She looked at the man beside her. "They have two," she said quietly. "Amanda and Joshua." She drew a breath and let it out slowly. Children that were now without a father. "Mandy is away at school. She would be..." Sharon's head tilted as she calculated the girl's age. "A sophomore. The last time that I spoke to Sergeant Elliot, he told me that she was planning to attend Washington State. Lisa's parents are from Washington and live nearby. Mandy was going to move in with them to help with the cost." She shrugged and let her gaze drift back to the house. "Joshua would be in third grade now, I think." Lisa and Matthew had tried for years to have another child, she recalled, and just when they had stopped, and least expected it, Joshua had come along.

Sharon could easily imagine Matthew and Lisa as they had been when she first met them; young and idealistic. They were such an unlikely pair, at least at first sight. Matthew was a stocky, bull of a man, one that had played football in high school. He fought too much, drank too much, and got into trouble as teenage boys sometimes did. His father had encouraged him to join the Army, in the hope that he might learn discipline and respect, for himself and others. He met Lisa while stationed at Fort Lewis. She was a freshman in college, living in Tacoma at the time, although Sharon could not readily remember which school that she had attended then. She was tall, blond and blue eyed; she had gone to school on a cheerleading scholarship of all things. Sharon remembered almost laughing the first time that she had heard that. Her laughter was quickly squashed when it was followed up with an explanation that Lisa had a degree in Physics, along with a teaching certificate. The pair had married while she was still a sophomore in college. Her degree was on hold while she followed her husband from one base to another, until finally he mustered out at the end of his initial six years in the service.

They had been in California at that point. Lisa had gone back to school, and Matthew had gone to the Police Academy. He had supported his wife while she finished her degree, something that Sharon had immediately liked and respected about him, especially given her own history. Mandy had come along while Lisa was still in school. Somehow she had managed both a college degree and caring for a small child. She was not _only_ a cheerleader. It had served as a valuable lesson for Sharon, one that she had never forgotten, and had passed on to her own children. People should be judged for who they were, not only who you perceived them to be.

Provenza's brows drew together. He was trying to remember how long Elliot had been in FID. He looked at the Captain again. "How long did the Sergeant work for you?"

"Hm." She hummed. "Just over fifteen years at the time of my transfer. I pulled him out of Narcotics." Sharon folded her arms across her chest as she thought back. Her gaze drifted again and turned retrospective. "His partner was killed as the result of another officer's negligence. He was so full of anger and the need to do something about it. That was before FID was established." It wasn't until 2001 that her former division came into existence, prior to that, they had only been members of Internal Affairs. "Matthew had experienced first hand the fallout that could occur when officers abuse their responsibility and positions. When the anger cleared, he still wanted to be part of something that could curb that sort of destruction. The department was still recovering from the Rampart scandals. There was a lot of reorganization going on, as I'm sure you remember. We needed fresh faces. When I mentioned him to my Commander, he went for it. Then later, when FID was formed, I took the Sergeant with me." Her promotion had come a few years after that, but she had time to lay the groundwork for what she wanted it to be and to train those around her to perform the function that was required. Sharon met the Lieutenant's gaze again. "I recruited him. I trained him. He was meant to replace me." A smile that didn't reach her eyes curved her lips upward. "Only, as it turned out instead, my transfer did not exactly fit into my neat little timeline."

"You don't say." Provenza looked at the house again and then checked the time. They had been sitting there for almost ten minutes. "We should-"

"Yes." Sharon was well aware of that. She had delayed long enough. "I suggest that we proceed." She pushed her door open and slid out of the SUV. She was aware of the Lieutenant doing the same. She joined him on the driver's side of the vehicle and they made their way up the walk together. Sharon was fully aware of what knocking on that door, at this hour, would herald for the family inside. It was the moment that every spouse, parent, child, and sibling of a police officer dreaded. It was a moment of nightmares and heart stopping, breath stealing seconds that came every time that a loved one was late in coming home. As far as they knew of the Sergeant's activities, he should have been home hours ago. It wasn't hard to guess what was going through his wife's mind in that space of time.

She hoped that she was wrong. Lisa Elliot held her breath as she opened the door of her home. She closed her eyes in those few seconds and lifted up a silent prayer that Matthew had left his house key at the gym, something that he had done before. She knew as her eyes settled on the two detectives on her front step that wasn't to be the case. Her jaw clenched. She took a couple of quick breaths, and if seeing them wasn't enough, that Sharon Raydor was one of them told her all that she needed to know. She felt a little lightheaded as she leaned against the door. Lisa looked away from them. She rested her forehead against the edge of the heavy, oak structure while all of the air rushed out of her lungs. "No."

"Mrs. Elliot." Sharon kept the cadence of her voice low, almost comforting, despite the fact that their visit was official. "This is Lieutenant Provenza. He is a member of my division. May we come in?"

Lisa drew herself up. She inhaled a thin, shaky breath as she stepped back and pulled the door wide enough to permit the two officers entrance into her home. She could already hear the words that they would tell her as she pushed the door quietly closed behind them. Lisa stood there for just a moment before she moved around the two detectives and led the way into the family room. The lighting was soft. She had only kept a couple of the lamps lit while she waited for Matthew to get home. It had seemed warm a few minutes ago. Now she was just cold. Lisa turned in the center of the room and stared at them.

"Say it." It was the Captain on whom she was concentrating. "I haven't been _Mrs. Elliot_ to you for almost twenty years. Say the words, Sharon. There is only one reason that you would be here right now." Her jaw clenched when her voice hitched. Lisa swallowed back a swell of emotion. He is either hurt, dead, or missing. Which is it?"

"Lisa." There was a procedure to this, but it would be cruel to drag it out. The other woman was right; Sharon had known them for too long. Lisa was not a stranger to this scene. She had been a cop's wife for over twenty years, and how many widows had she comforted in that time? It was a dark fact of life that someone they loved might leave the house wearing their badge and never come home. It was a reality that they, as officers lived, but it was easy to take for granted how difficult, sometimes more so, it could be on those that they loved. Hadn't she learned that recently herself? Wasn't it only a few months ago that she was terrified of losing someone that she loved, and that feeling made worse by the fact that she had sent him into harm's way? Sharon walked over and took the other woman's arm. "Come on," she said gently and maneuvered her toward the couch. They both sat and Sharon angled her body so that she was facing her. "Is Josh home?"

She didn't answer immediately. Lisa continued to stare at her. She nodded after a moment. "Yes, he's upstairs. He's asleep. Mandy…" She trailed off and had to take another breath, swallow back the ache rising in her throat. "Mandy is in Pullman with my parents, at school," she managed.

"Mrs. Elliot," Provenza leaned forward in his seat, on a wide armchair to her left. He drew her attention away from the Captain. "You know that we have to ask," he prefaced, because there was no reason pretending otherwise and wasting any of their time. "Can you tell us when you last spoke to your husband?"

The typically cranky Lieutenant could be wonderfully gentle with victims and their families, something that few rarely witnessed. Sharon gave Lisa's hand a squeeze. "We really need to know," she explained.

"When he left the office." Lisa looked between the two and finally decided that it was easier to focus on the Lieutenant. "Matthew always calls when he is leaving the office. He told me that he was going to stop by the gym, and I asked him to swing by the store when he was done…" Her voice trembled. She turned her hand over in Sharon's, and although her gaze remained on the Lieutenant, she squeezed back hard. "We're almost out of milk, and Josh has to have milk or he thinks that the world is ending." Lisa had to take a moment before she could continue to attempt to compose herself. "That was around eight, maybe eight-thirty? I just sent Josh back to bed…" It was the third time that he had been up; her little boy didn't like bedtime. He always felt that he was something. He wanted to be in the world, experiencing it. She was thankful that he was missing _this_.

Sharon nodded. She drew Lisa's hand into her lap and gained her attention. She despised her next question, but it needed to be asked. "Were you both home all evening?" They would have to confirm that, but it shouldn't be too difficult.

"Yes." Lisa stared back at her. She steeled herself and then lifted her chin. "Sharon, _say it_." If there had been any doubt in her mind before, it was gone now. She only needed to hear it. She wouldn't believe it until she did.

She took both of Lisa's hands in hers and met the other woman's gaze. "Lisa, I am very sorry. Matthew was found in his car this evening, in the parking lot of the gym where he works out." She had to stop speaking when the emotion became too much to push past. Her eyes glistened with tears, but she quickly blinked them back. "He's dead."

Suddenly breathing was very difficult. Lisa tugged a hand out of Sharon's grasp and wrapped her arm around her middle. She leaned forward, as though that would somehow alleviate her pain. These were the words that she expected to hear, but even knowing that they were coming could not prepare her for the reality of it. It didn't matter how long her husband had been with the department, or how many times that she told herself that losing him was possible. All of the conversations and preparations that they made; the funerals that they had attended and families that they knew and comforted, none of it meant anything in that moment. As intellectually aware of death and loss as they believed themselves to be, there was always that voice in the back of their minds, that small spark of belief that they were exempt. It wouldn't happen to them. It _couldn't_ happen.

Lisa had a vice grip on her hand, but Sharon didn't feel it. She laid her other hand against the younger woman's back. "Breathe, Lisa." She knew that she didn't feel as if she could, or ever would again, but one breath after another would get her through the next few hours, and that would get her through the next few days. "Is there anyone that we can call for you?" With Lisa's parents in Washington and Matthew's family in Ohio, she knew that the family they had in California was largely made up of close friends and coworkers.

While the Captain sat comforting their victim's wife, Lieutenant Provenza stood up and slipped away from them. Under the guise of making a phone call, he took a cursory look around the first floor of the house. There was nothing readily out of place. There was an open novel on a comfortable looking armchair in a corner of the room, along with a half empty cup of tea. In the kitchen, where he stopped to make his call, there was a kettle still on the stove.

They would be pulling the Sergeant's cell phone records, and while they had access to the account, they would pull the wife's too. It would be easy enough to corroborate her story, especially once they had their hands on the security footage from the gym. While Provenza thought about that, he called Tao to get the ball rolling on the cell phones. Provenza wasn't surprised to learn that he had already started, but it gave him something to do while the Captain dealt with the crying widow in the other room. After he was finished speaking with Tao, Provenza made a second call. He decided that it wouldn't hurt to wait for an LAPD grief counselor to arrive before they headed back downtown to meet up with the rest of their team.

The department had counselors on call twenty-four-seven. There would be someone available to drop by the Elliot home, and he knew that whoever that person happened to be, they would get the department advocate involved on behalf of the family. There was a system for widows and their children. The Elliots may not have need of the Memorial fund, but there were other services that the LAPD provided when a loved one was lost, either on the job, or in the manner in which Matthew Elliot had been killed. Those services were made up mostly of volunteers, other department family members and retired officers, people who would know who to call and how to get the ball rolling on everything that Lisa Elliot would have to do now that her husband was dead: funeral arrangements, pension assignment, and the like.

Provenza didn't want to deal with the crying widow, but he wasn't heartless. This way he could help. Because really, this time, his instincts were telling him that it was _not_ the wife.

 **MCMCMCMCMCMC**

When they left the Elliot home almost an hour later, Sharon had a message on her phone from Chief Taylor. The Sergeant's identity had been released. It was official now. His division had been informed and the Chief was putting together a press conference for first thing the following morning. Sharon shook her head as she walked toward the Explorer. None of that would matter to Lisa Elliot. She had to call her daughter and wake her son. How did a mother decide how to tell her children that their father was never coming back?

Yes, Jack had left her a number of times, and most of them while the children were at school or in the middle of the night, but she never had to tell them that he was dead. There was always the chance that he would return, and he usually did… when he was out of money or wanted something. _Dad had to leave_ became a staple in her house before her children were in middle school. After the first few times that he did it, they both stopped questioning why and just accepted that he would eventually show up again. However terrible that situation was, the potential for better still remained. Jack might have been an absolute disappointment as a father, but he was still alive.

"Take a minute." Provenza was aware that he startled her with the suggestion. The captain was staring at him, looking as if she didn't honestly understand. He waved a hand at her and leaned against the side of the Explorer. "Take a minute," he repeated. The counselor had arrived and they had things to do, but another couple of minutes wouldn't hurt. Besides which, the old girl was looking pale and just as upset as he was sure that she was. She needed to get herself back in check and they could afford to let her do that. Especially before Flynn saw her, because by god he didn't want to have to listen to that old woman fretting about the shape that he was bringing her back in.

Sharon sighed as she leaned against the side of the vehicle beside him. She clasped her hands in front of her and stared at the pavement in front of them. She supposed that he was right; it had been a difficult evening. Sharon would still prefer to be the one to tell Lisa that her husband was dead, but she paid a price for it. This one had taken a chunk out of her considerable reserve of emotional control. She had always been very fond of them both, although she didn't think that was much of a secret to anyone.

"Lisa used to babysit for me," she admitted quietly. "Mandy went to public school, but when my kids were younger, we didn't live very far from here. Lisa worked across town, near St. Josephs, so it wasn't very far out of her way to pick them up. Matthew suggested it once," she continued, head inclining and voice remaining soft as she slipped into the memory. "We were working a case and I wasn't going to be able to get away in time to pick Ricky up and get Emily to dance class. I couldn't reach my regular sitter, so Matthew suggested that his wife do it. At first I was appalled, how could he just volunteer his wife without asking her first," Sharon laughed. "Then when he called her, he asked if she minded. Mandy fell in love with Ricky, so…" Sharon rolled her eyes at that memory, "of course it had to become a regular thing. Lisa picked up my kids, and she would drop Emily at dance school and take Ricky home with her." She folded her arms across her chest and exhaled quietly. "When I was able to, I returned the favor. I would keep Mandy so that the two of them could have time together."

What Sharon did not verbalize to the Lieutenant was the night that Ricky had gotten on his bike and ridden to the Elliots' because Jack had come home, drunk and loud, and acting a fool because she wouldn't let him stay. Jack could be a belligerent drunk, but not a violent one. She never had reason to fear him, but she had always done everything that she could to keep her children shielded from his behavior. Ricky had been awake, and it had frightened him, so he had gone for help. Sharon was showing Jack out the front door and telling him to call a cab when Matthew pulled into her driveway. She could remember just how mortified she had been by the incident. It was no great secret that Jack was a drunk. They had too many friends and colleagues in common, but no one had ever had to witness his behavior before and certainly not one of her subordinates.

"You were friends with them," he pointed out, and without judging. Hell, he had friends on the force. What the hell did they think Flynn was? His personal pet monkey?

"Hm." She hummed thoughtfully and nodded. Her gaze had drifted again. Sharon was staring at the house. "Yes," she agreed. That was true. It couldn't be denied, not that she would have. She felt a little guilty, however, that she had seen so little of them since her transfer. There were several friendships that had fallen, not necessarily to the wayside, but the backburner with her move to Major Crimes. The hours were different and far more unpredictable than she had to contend with in FID. There was also the matter of the invisible line that had to exist between Professional Standards and other divisions. They had to maintain a distance from one another, an objectivity to be able to do their jobs effectively. That didn't mean that she hadn't spoken to Matthew and Lisa since her transfer. There just had not been much opportunity for more than the occasional conversation. They were all busy people. That is what she had told herself. Now she was wondering how busy was _too_ busy where the people in your life were concerned. "It made me very nervous at first," she said, "I always worked so hard to keep my work and personal life separate, especially after I joined Professional Standards."

"But how could you dare think about parting Mandy Elliot from her first crush." He said it rather dryly, but they both knew that he was trying to fill the silence with something other than memories and grief. Provenza pushed away from the SUV and looked at his Captain. "We try not to get too close to the people that we work with, for obvious reasons, but sometimes it just isn't possible. This is why," he waved a hand back toward the Elliot's house. "But if we don't, then what the hell is it all for?"

"Yes." Sharon stood straighter. "That is exactly right." She smoothed down her jacket and nodded. Sharon shook back her hair and took a deep breath. "I guess that I am no more immune to it than the rest of the world." When morning arrived she would need to call her children and tell them about the Sergeant. She was certain that Ricky would want to call Mandy and check on her. That crush had gone nowhere as there was over a five year age gap between the pair, but they had been friends.

Provenza snorted at her. "Captain, it pains me to be the one to tell you this… We changed your code name to _Glinda_ a while ago."

Her jaw dropped open as she watched him pull open the driver's door and climb into the vehicle. Sharon blinked a couple of times before she turned where she stood and walked around to join him in the truck. Before opening the passenger door she took another deep breath and let it out slowly. There was still much to do; they were only just beginning the investigation. She was able to tuck away the worst of her emotional response, however. The Lieutenant had given her the moment that she needed before snapping her back to reality. Sharon wondered, a bit idly, if she should tell him that his code name had been changed too. He was no longer _Lt. Cranky Pants_.

A small, if wan smile had curved her lips when she slid into the vehicle. "Let's rejoin the rest of our team, Lieutenant. I would like to see where we are on getting that security footage from the gym." And although she did not want to think about it, they would need to check in with Doctor Morales too. That was quite possibly the part that Sharon was least looking forward to.

 **-TBC-**


	3. Chapter 3

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

The trip downtown was made in silence. The Lieutenant had only just pulled the Explorer into his usual parking space when the Captain's phone rang. It was Detective Sanchez; Doctor Morales was ready for them. The Lieutenant offered to go in her stead, and for just a moment Sharon wavered and almost agreed. It only took a second, barely the space of a breath, but she shook her head at him instead.

"No," she told him. "I need you in the Murder Room." He looked like he would argue, but Sharon offered a small smile. "Check on the security footage download. Make sure that Lieutenant Tao and Buzz have not gotten distracted."

He seemed only too pleased to do just that, and so Sharon parted with him in the parking garage and made her way to the morgue.

It was not a place that she was particularly fond of, but then who was? She hated it. Despised it even, and everything that it stood for. The darkness of the walls, the dim lighting, the smells and the way every sound seemed to echo, it all heralded a single feeling. Loss. This place represented a light that had burned out too soon. It was darkness and despair, hatred, greed, and jealousy. Sharon always felt cold in the morgue, and that had little to do with the fact that the temperatures were kept low for obvious reasons.

She was usually able to push it out of her mind. It was a necessary part of her job, the visits that were made here. Someone had to speak for their victims, and this was the place where that began. That was a thought that she tried to focus on now. Doctor Morales was very good at opening those dialogues, even in his own quirky and sarcastic way. She understood his temperament. He was with this destruction all day. He saw the worst that humanity could accomplish and he was called upon to make sense of it, to give them facts and a starting point to find those responsible. If they thought that their jobs were difficult, she could not imagine what the doctor must feel at being called upon so often. He was the voice of their dead. Sharon wondered if anyone ever bothered to express to him that he was appreciated?

Detective Sanchez was waiting for her at the end of the corridor, outside the entrance to the autopsy room. He was already robed in one of the blue, sterile paper smocks. A frown drew his brows together as she neared. When the captain reached for one of the smocks on the shelf that lined the wall, he shook his head at her. "Captain, I can go in and talk to the doctor. You don't have to be here." No one expected her to be there for Morales's presentation. That was asking a lot, even for the Captain.

"Yes I do." Sharon glanced at the detective and then concentrated on pulling on the sterile drape. "I appreciate the offer, Detective, but I would hardly be doing my job if I allowed myself to skip this." Sharon shook her head. "That is what Sergeant Elliot needs from me now. It is what he would expect, and it is what I expect of myself." She reached behind her back and tied the smock before she let her arms drop. She offered the scowling detective a small smile. "Julio, it is going to be okay." Knowing the victim made it more difficult, there was no reason to attempt to deny that, but this was another case. It was another day, and they had things to do. _Miles to go before they slept_.

He didn't think that she believed that. Julio didn't believe it either. What was _okay_ in a situation like this? Sometimes he wondered at the senseless nature of it all. In a matter of minutes, seconds really, two lives could end. One person would be dead, another would be going to jail, and so many others would be affected by all of it. Friends and family on both sides of the murder would be forever damaged, always changed, and always lacking. It never ended. They had a reason to come to work because people in the world insisted on hurting others. It really was a hard job. Who else could understand it but the people that they worked with? That is what made it worse when they had to investigate the death of another officer.

Julio sighed. He took a half step back and turned. He waved a hand toward the door that was separating them from the body of Sergeant Matthew Elliot. "Yes ma'am," he said quietly. "Doc is waiting on us." He really didn't want to let her go in there, but short of body blocking her, Julio didn't think that there was anything that he could do to stop what was about to happen. He understood why she felt like she needed to do it, but this was going to be hell, and wasn't it his job to protect good people from bad things?

Sharon walked forward but stopped beside him. She laid a hand on his arm. "Thank you, Julio." She spoke quietly and gave his arm a squeeze. He nodded only once. He wasn't pleased, but he wasn't going to fight her on this. There was a time, when she was much younger and felt as though she needed to prove herself as an officer, that she would have resented the attempt. She would have challenged him, rather than accepting his help and taking it as the sign of respect and assistance that it was meant to be. She would not have been able to look beyond her own arrogance to see that at the heart of it all, Julio was a natural protector and while that sometimes got him into trouble, she would never want to change him. With Julio it was a matter of channeling that energy, directing it in a more positive way. This was something that he was learning, and doing very well at, even as he came to terms with the demons of his past that pushed against his ability to control himself.

The temperature around them shifted, and so too did Sharon's thoughts as they stepped into the dimly lit autopsy room. It was cooler here, a necessary requirement for the room, but she couldn't help but think that it and the lack of lighting, reflected the dark nature of the room's purpose. Her gaze circled the room. She wasn't ready yet to look at the sheet draped figure on the steel table in front of them. She eventually spotted the doctor. He was standing near the workbench, making notes in a file. As they stepped further into the room, he looked up.

"Ah, Captain. I was beginning to wonder if we would see you." Morales put his pen down and turned toward the table in the center of the room. He started to walk toward it, but when he realized that she was attempting to look at anything _but_ that table, he stopped. He glanced at the Detective beside her. If it was possible, Sanchez was looking even more pensive than usual. The Detective was staring at him. It was almost as if he was daring him to do something, or to say something, that might give him a reason to release his pent up concern. Morales resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was a difficult situation but he was not going to make it worse. He let his attention move back to the Captain instead. He inclined his head at her. "I am very sorry, Captain. I know that you were close to the Sergeant. This isn't going to be easy."

No, but it had to be done. "Thank you, Doctor." Sharon took a step forward, and then another, until she came to a stop beside the table. Her gaze moved slowly along the prone body, beginning at the Sergeant's feet. The doctor had moved as quickly as he could, she realized, or as he dared, considering that the tell-tale signs of an autopsy were already present, along with the fact that he had put the body back together… at least in so much as was possible at this stage. Sharon crossed her arms over her chest. In death he was so still. She remembered the Sergeant being full of energy. He could rarely sit still. He always had to be active, whether it was physical or mental. He was one of those people who needed to have several tasks going on at once. Sharon recalled that she found it alarming when he first came to work for her. She could not understand how, while she was training him, that he could be listening to her while simultaneously paging through old reports or looking up over night sports scores. He would read reports while running on a treadmill or listen to an audiobook while writing his reports, and because she could never find any fault in his actual work, she just allowed it.

Sharon knew that his time off was spent being just as active. Matthew always had to be going. He wasn't going anywhere now. She gritted her teeth at the sight of the familiar y-incision that marred his torso, along with the puckered and raised skin around the single bullet entry to the left side of the midline. That wound would have been enough to end his life, but it was not alone. Her gaze travelled further upward. His face was slack, and thankfully his eyes were closed, but the left side of his head, just above his ear was slightly indented inward. The doctor had shaved the area immediately around the bullet hole. Sharon didn't want to think about the other side of his head, but she forced herself to look. The sergeant's skull had been blown outward and was missing a large chunk to the back right of his head. Her hands clenched tightly around her upper arms as her stomach churned. Sharon forced herself to look away and instead focused intently upon the doctor. "What did you find?"

If her voice was thicker, lower than normal, the doctor ignored it. He shared a look with the detective before gestured to the body in front of them. "Two entry wounds and a single exit," he began. "The wounds were received at roughly the same time, so I can't tell you what order they came in, but…" He reached for one of the trajectory sticks. "As your detectives surmised, and Kendall agreed, the body was not moved after the Sergeant was shot." He placed the stick at the opening of the chest wound and stopped. Morales looked up at them. He met the Captain's gaze. "You may want to cover your ears."

The captain's back straightened but she didn't move. Sanchez stepped up beside her. "Just do it." His dark eyes were hooded and held a warning. _Be quick about it_ , he thought. The sooner they were out of there, the better.

Fernando didn't say anymore on the matter. He had tried. He knew that the Captain was sensitive to sight or smell. He wouldn't call her squeamish, exactly, but she didn't always appreciate the things that went on in his morgue. He tried to take heed of that during the more sensitive cases, specifically with children or abuse victims, the ones that he knew were harder on some officers than others. It wasn't only with her that he attempted to be mindful, as he reminded them quite often, he didn't work for them. Morales slipped the trajectory meter into the entry wound and worked it through the path that the bullet had taken. As he expected, the usual sounds came from the body, the squish of tissues and organs being pushed aside, and the sound of those parts sliding against the plastic of the thin stick.

Sharon stared hard at the stick as it moved into the body. Her nails bit into her upper arms. She swallowed back the bile that was rising in her throat and arched a brow as the trajectory meter was put into place. She took a step to one side and tilted her head. "It confirms that he was sitting," she said.

"Yes." Morales straightened and stepped back. "The Sergeant was seated in his car and his body was angled a bit toward the window, I would guess. I say that, not just because of this bullet path, but the other." He wouldn't use a trajectory measure this time. That would just be cruel. Morales pointed to the entry wound above the Sergeant's left ear. "The bullet entered at an angle, and exited toward the back…"

"But the front passenger window was shattered," Sanchez finished, "and not the back." He frowned at the body. "Like this…" He walked around and grabbed a chair from the workbench. Julio rolled it over near the table and then grabbed Morales's shoulders. He maneuvered the medical examiner into the chair, and ignored his scowl, then turned his body slightly. "He was seated behind the wheel of his car," Julio said, and gestured to where that would be. "But someone was standing at his window." He moved alongside Morales. "Unless you are bending down, you can't really see who you're talking to. So whoever it was, would have been standing like this." He did a half pivot back and twisted his body so that he was angled toward Morales and the back passenger side of the car.

"There's a mirror here," Morales said and turned his body slightly so that he was half facing where the window of the car would have been. "I want to make sure that I'm facing you, because I'm listening to what you are telling me. I still have my seatbelt on," he pointed out to the detective.

"Right. So you must know me, because you put your window down, and we probably aren't arguing because you haven't reached for your service weapon," Sanchez stated.

"Which was still in the center console of the Sergeant's car," Sharon stated, recalling from memory where Matthew kept it when he was off duty. She walked around the table and stood next to the two men. "It was within easy reach, but it did not look as if he had gone for it."

"That's right," Julio agreed. "His badge and ID were in the console too. The Sergeant never reached for either, ma'am. He was taken by surprise. He was talking to his assailant and then…" He lifted his arms and pantomimed firing off two shots, without the verbal sound effects he normally would have used. "One in the chest, and one in the head."

"Then our killer policed his brass," Sharon pointed out. "There were no casings found at the crime scene." She turned toward Morales. "What caliber was the bullet that you extracted from the body?"

"Your run of the mill .45," he stated. "Nothing at all special about it." Morales held up the evidence bag that the bullet had been placed in and passed it to Detective Sanchez.

"Same caliber as the bullet that we pulled out of the neighboring vehicle at the scene," Julio told her.

"Hm." Sharon let her gaze drift as she thought about it. They would take the bullet that Morales extracted to SID, but she was sure that they would find that it matched the other bullet that they retrieved. The bullets were left behind, but not the casings. Two kill shots, and the Sergeant had obviously known whom he was speaking to. Sharon's jaw clenched again. "Thank you Doctor," she stated. "I think we have what we need. Detective…" Now she wanted to get out of there, and quickly. Sharon did not like the direction that her thoughts were taking.

"Yeah." Julio continued to stare at the doctor. "Thanks, Doc."

Morales watched them go with a frown. When he was alone again, he looked at the body on his table. "Pity the fool that gets in her way with that one around."

Outside in the hall, both officers began pulling off their sterile drapes. Sharon had only managed to get hers half untied when she realized that it felt as if it was smothering her. She tugged at the paper garment and ripped the ties apart before jerking it from her body. She quickly wadded it into ball and pushed it into the trash. "Excuse me for a moment, Detective." The words were barely out of her mouth before she was walking away from him, to the ladies room at the end of the hall. Her feet carried her at a clipped pace, and her heels echoed loudly in the morgue corridor. The sound of it filled her ears. She concentrated on that and not the sudden heat that she felt rising up her chest and into her neck.

The moment that she was alone inside the ladies room Sharon braced herself against the sink and leaned over it. She turned the faucet on, and made sure that the water was set to cool. Her eyes closed and she finally drew in a long, shuddering breath. It caught in her throat and she almost gagged on it. She pressed her eyes more tightly closed and swallowed past it. The ache in her throat throbbed painfully. She pressed her hand into the cold water and let it coat her skin. Then she laid it against the back of her neck and tried to concentrate on breathing.

Having her eyes closed, she realized too late, was a mistake. A jumble of images collided together. She could see the Sergeant slumped dead in his car, and then laid out on the morgue table as she had just left him. She heard the sounds that his body made as it was manipulated for their investigation and thought that she might actually be sick.

"Try this instead."

The voice startled her. Sharon looked up and found the Detective standing nearby. She blinked at him a couple of times before she accepted the folded napkins. They were already wet and cool. Sharon averted her gaze and looked down at the item in hand. She straightened and shook her hair back. Her eyes closed again. She turned off the faucet before stepping back. Then she turned and backed up against the wall opposite him. Sharon kept her head tilted back, but her fingers closed around the wet napkins, holding on in case she needed them after all.

It had only taken Julio about half a second to decide that he should follow her. He hadn't let himself waver or think about it. He leaned against the wall behind him and folded his hands in front of him. The lights in the ladies room were much brighter. The fluorescents overhead almost hurt his eyes after the low lighting in the hall and autopsy room. Beneath them the Captain looked even worse, almost gray in her sudden, blanched appearance. It was a lot to handle, this particular case. Not that many of their cases were all that easy, they usually weren't, but they also didn't usually know their victims. The captain came from a department where they did usually know their suspects, though. Julio couldn't help but wonder if that was why and how Elliot had been taken so off guard when he was killed.

At the moment he wondered if maybe the Captain was trying too hard to pull herself together, mainly because he was there. He shook his head. "Better?"

"Yes, I think so." The room was no longer spinning around her. Sharon lifted her gaze to the harsh fluorescent lights above them. She exhaled quietly. "Thank you, Julio. It has been a difficult night."

"It's going to get harder," he said quietly. Julio continued to watch her. "I think we both know what probably happened."

Sharon's gaze fell to the Detective. His dark eyes were burning intensely at her. There was the promise of vengeance in them. Her brow arched. "Do we?" She shook her head at him. "Julio, we have only just started piecing this night together. Just because Sergeant Elliot appeared to have known his killer does not mean that it was another police officer."

"No." Julio agreed. "But who else would have picked up their casings? The bullets are from a .45, and that is common enough to find on the street. Whoever the shooter was, he wasn't too worried about leaving them behind. The casings…"

There could be prints on the casings and they both knew it. Who besides an officer, or former officer, would have the knowledge or wherewithal to worry about that? Sharon's brows drew together in a frown. "He was off duty," Sharon said, "and on his way home…"

"The shooter had to know where he would go before he went home. He killed him there instead of in his driveway." Julio blinked once. "There was less chance of being seen or getting caught if he waited until the Sergeant got home. He kept it away from the Sergeant's family, didn't involve them."

Sharon's eyes fell to the tiled floor between them. She stared at the plain, gray patterns, and while her eyes tried to make sense of the shapes in the grout, her mind worked over what the Detective said. She had weathered a lot of threats during her time with Professional Standards. They either came in anonymously or got delivered in person. Most of the time, they were delivered in person. "When you investigate other police officers," she stated, "they tend to hold a grudge. There is a line that exists between Professional Standards and other divisions. Once it is drawn, it is almost impossible to cross. No one likes to be disciplined or reprimanded; no one wants to be told that they are doing the job that they love wrong. None of us appreciate having our mistakes pointed out to us, or to our superiors. Recommending another officer for disciplinary action, or even termination, is not a simple matter. There are a number of steps that need to be completed first and only specific actions for which termination is immediately warranted. It is not impossible that this was a revenge killing." Sharon just didn't want to believe that was the case. "Your point is valid, and seems to support that. I received my share of threats over the years. None of them were ever made against my family. I was the source of the anger, and that is usually all that it is. Those situations always resolve themselves and go away in time."

"Us and them." Julio continued to watch her. "That is how it has always felt. We go out and do the hard stuff. We find the scumbags and lock them away. We get shot at, sued, and raked over the coals by brass and reporters. Then here comes IA poking their noses into everything and trying to tell us how to do it better." He sighed quietly. "So it always feels like it's us and them."

"Exactly." Sharon stared back at him, just as intently. He wasn't judging, simply stating the truth. She had felt a little like that since transferring to Major Crimes. Not necessarily in the same way he voiced, but the line was there. She had stepped across it and it had been shored up behind her. "I told Lieutenant Provenza earlier this evening that I tried very hard to maintain a distance from the people that I worked with, but it wasn't possible. In large part because of what you just described. Working in Professional Standards is not easy. It can make you feel insulated, cut off from the rest of the department. There is a certain level of objectivity that is required, but on the whole, PSB always felt like a small police department all it's own within the LAPD. Unfortunately it is a necessary evil." Sharon shook her head. "If it were not for past transgressions, that seem to be repeated over, and over again, rather than being learned from, there would be no need of such a division. FID came out of a public outcry to make officers accountable for the level of force used during arrests and confrontations. Too often in the past we have had trigger-happy rookies and arrogant long-standing officers who have felt as if their badges put them above the law. I told Chief Johnson once that FID would exist as long as it continued to be needed, and as long as there was no better solution. Sergeant Elliot felt that way too. Not everyone can work inside Professional Standards. It takes…" Sharon shrugged. She gestured with her hands as she tried to find the right words. "Not just a certain level of ethical value, but a kind of…"

"Thick skin?" Julio stepped away from the wall. "Someone who can take the crap and not react to it, just keep moving forward and doing the right thing? Even when the rest of us think it's all a load of crap." He tilted his head at her in askance.

"Something like that, yes." Sharon managed a small smile. "When we recruit into Professional Standards we are looking for a certain type of officer. Thick skinned, but also one who values everything that this department stands for above his or her own reputation. Someone who believes that protecting the public can also mean protecting the public from us too. Sergeant Elliot understood that we were, none of us, above the law that we are here to defend."

Julio looked down for a moment. He thought back over his own troubles and then further back, to other instances where FID and Professional Standards had been involved in his work. "No one ever says thank you when you protect them from themselves," he pointed out. "You're right, no one likes Professional Standards, and we really don't like FID…" The corner of his mouth twitched toward an almost smile. "But we need them. To stop us when we can't stop ourselves. To protect us from things we can't see. It's not just about protecting the public." He shrugged at her. "We're the public too."

Her answer was a soft smile. Sharon knew that Julio understood it now. They had several long talks while he was on suspension the previous year. He was angry at first, and hard to reach. Nearer to the end of his suspension, he had finally started to open up to her. He could see where he had gone wrong, even if he couldn't fully understand why yet. He was still working hard, she knew, to maintain the tight grip that he had on his temper now. One of his greatest strengths and talents as an officer was his ability to make it appear as if he was pushing the line, to enforce and intimidate without overstepping. He stumbled just a bit, for a time, but she felt like he was back on solid ground again. "So at the very least," she said, "we should be looking for a former officer, perhaps someone that the Sergeant recommended for termination given the nature of the shooting and how we believe that it occurred."

"Someone he didn't feel threatened by," Julio pointed out, "but yes. We should have the security footage back by now. Maybe we got lucky. The car could have been in view of the camera."

"We should pull the footage from the traffic cameras at both ends of the street," Sharon decided. "If the gym cameras didn't pick anything up, we might be able to pull something from the traffic cams and cross reference those with any cases that the Sergeant worked recently."

Julio's brows shot up. "Can we do that?" There was a certain level of confidentiality that existed around Professional Standards. He didn't know of any case where another division had managed to pull data from one of their cases.

Sharon mimicked his expression. Her head inclined. "Detective, who is going to stop me?"

Julio's mouth snapped closed. A small smile curved his lips. He folded his hands together in front of him again. "That is a very good point, ma'am." He couldn't think of a single person that would attempt it, and was reminded that she had come by every single one of her nicknames honestly. As they left the ladies room Julio held out a set of keys. "I drove your car back ma'am. It's parked in its usual spot." He left his service vehicle with patrol. They would see that it was delivered back to the PAB when the crime scene was closed.

"Thank you, Julio." Sharon palmed the keys and slipped them into her pocket. She left the keys with Andy when she left the crime scene with Provenza. She expected that he would drive it back, but then realized he probably sent it with Julio since closing out a crime scene like this one could take a while. Everyone wanted to make sure that nothing was missed.

"Ma'am." Julio followed her to the elevator. When they stepped into it, he slanted a look at her. "I'm very sorry about Sergeant Elliot. He was my favorite."

Sharon lifted her gaze to the digital reader above the door under the guise of forcing back the tears that suddenly stung her eyes. "Yes, Detective. He was mine too."

 **-TBC-**


	4. Chapter 4

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

The rest of the team was already assembled when the Captain returned to the Murder Room with Detective Sanchez. Sharon took a moment to look around the room. A timeline had already been sketched out on the murder board, and pictures of the crime scene had been placed. Thankfully there were none of the Sergeant, but rather his empty vehicle and the area surrounding it. Sharon took a moment to study the notes made by her detectives before she moved further into the room.

The room had gone a little silent upon her entrance, but activity picked up again once she joined them. "What do we have?" She asked, and her gaze settled on Lieutenant Provenza.

He pushed up from his chair and waved a hand toward Buzz's desk. "We have the download from the security cameras. We have the Sergeant going in and out of the gym, and know that he arrived at about 8:50 in the evening."

"Unfortunately," Buzz picked up as the Captain approached him. "We do not have a view beyond the side of the building where the camera is located. We did get footage from the shopping strip across the street," he told her. Buzz called up the footage on his computer screen so that the Captain could see it. "There was a vehicle parked in the way. We cannot see the Sergeant's car during the time of the shooting but..." As they watched, the non-descript, unmarked van moved and they were given a view of the black Camaro. Buzz zoomed in on the image as much as he was able without completely blurring the pixilation. There was a figure seated behind the wheel, and it was not moving. "We've contacted Traffic. We should be getting the footage from the cameras on that street soon."

"The chances of being able to actually identify anything from them..." Andy shrugged. It was pretty obvious to him that the van was parked where it was for a reason. To obscure the security cameras view of the Sergeant's car. The van was just plain enough that it looked like any hundreds of other vans driving around the city, and he would bet that it was either stolen, or that any license plates that they were able to identify had been.

"You are probably correct," Sharon agreed. "Let's keep trying. I agree that it is doubtful we will get anywhere with it, but maybe we got lucky and we will be able to identify our suspect from the footage," she told Buzz. She turned to Andy then and folded her arms across her chest. "What were you able to determine from the crime scene?"

"It was too damned clean," he said. That bothered the hell out of him. "We found a couple of different sets of prints on the car. One set came back to the Sergeant, which we were expecting, and the others probably belong to the family." He sighed. "We will need Mrs. Elliot and the oldest child to come down and do a set of elimination prints." Andy tilted his head at her. "Unless Elliot already had something on file?" It was something that many of them did with their families, especially after they had worked homicides and kidnappings for as long as most of them had. They kept prints on file and prayed that they would never be needed, but understood too well the cold realities of the world that they lived in.

"Yes." Sharon sighed quietly. "We can check with Lieutenant Wheaton. I know that Sergeant Elliot kept prints on file for his wife and daughter. I am sure that he updated those records when his son was born."

It was something that most officers didn't discuss. It felt morbid and a bit like spreading a bad omen around themselves and their families, but Sharon had also made sure to keep her children's dental records updated and on file when Ricky and Emily were younger. She could remember the look on Rusty's face the first time that she discussed that with him. Ricky and Emily had not known, although by now she was sure that they probably figured it out at some point. They had been children and she had updated their files every couple of years. Rusty had come to her half grown, and with so much mistrust for the people around him that she felt it necessary to discuss that matter with him, rather than just handling it. With Rusty, however, it seemed to have the opposite effect than she expected. For the first time someone actually cared enough to want to know where he was and how to find him if something happened.

"Okay," Sharon continued with a nod. "I will speak to Lieutenant Wheaton. What else do we have?"

"We spoke to the business owners on that street," Amy began, "there was a small deli down the block that didn't close until ten. The manager gave us a list of the employees that were on shift tonight," her gaze dropped to her notes. "None of them heard a gunshot or noticed anything out of the ordinary."

"The ballistics report is not back yet," Tao stated, "so we don't know if a silencer was used. It's possible that there was nothing to hear."

Sharon nodded. "Possible. The bullet that Doctor Morales retrieved from Sergeant Elliot's body has been sent down to SID also. I would like to know as soon as that report comes back." She turned again to look at the murder board. "We have no witnesses, no view of the crime scene from any of the security cameras at the gym or the businesses surrounding it. There were no casings at the scene, and I am certain that all of the prints on the Sergeant's car will come back belonging to the family."

"The cell phone records from the account belonging to the Elliot's indicate that Lisa Elliot did not leave her home this evening," Provenza told her. "I had a couple of uniforms canvas her neighbors while we were there, no one saw her leave the house. We have also confirmed that Amanda Elliot is still in Washington with her grandparents, and we already know that eight-year-old Joshua Elliot was asleep in his bed."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Sharon took a step back and turned her back on the board. She took just a moment to glance at her watch. It had been several hours already. They were moving well into the early morning hours of Thursday. They couldn't expect to solve anything right away, but no one was going to be willing to rest until they at least had some sort of lead in the Sergeant's murder. "I will update Assistant Chief Taylor on our progress, and then place the call to Lieutenant Wheaton."

She stopped beside him, but Andy interrupted her before she could ask her next question. "I already spoke to Rusty. He knows not to expect you home tonight." The kid hadn't thought she would be, but he wouldn't wait up now that he knew what was going on. Andy had also mentioned that he might not want to talk to either of his siblings about this case if they happened to call before Sharon got the chance to speak to them. Elliot had worked for her long enough; he didn't know the entire history, but enough was said in the time that he had known her that he figured she would want to talk to the kids about it herself.

A small smile appeared, if only for a moment. "Thank you." Her hand brushed his arm in only the faintest caress as she continued past him. "With any luck, I will be back soon."

"Twenty minutes and we send the cavalry," Andy hooked a thumb in Tao's direction. Taylor didn't like his long-winded explanations any better than the rest of them.

The Lieutenant looked up from his computer and scowled at them. "Hey."

"What?" Andy shrugged at him. "It's your turn."

"It's always my turn…"

"There is a reason for that," Julio mumbled. He was already seated at his desk, inputting everything that they had learned from the autopsy into the division's shared case file.

Sharon smiled as she walked away from the murder room. She could hear their banter picking up a bit as she got farther away, at least until she rounded a corner in the corridor and their voices began to fade. It was normal, this behavior, and she found it oddly comforting too. It was not unusual either for her to find the lights inside Chief Taylor's suite of offices on at this time of night, not when they were working a particularly high profile case, and it did not typically get higher profile for the LAPD than the murder of a fellow officer. The Chief's assistant was not at her desk to announce her presence so Sharon knocked quietly on the door as she stepped inside.

Taylor looked up and waved her inside. He sat back in his chair and pulled his glasses off as she came into the office. He waited until she was seated in front of him before Taylor indicated the file that he had been reading. "I was reading the autopsy report from Doctor Morales," he told her. He was usually copied on the reports that came back from the Medical Examiner or SID; Taylor just usually waited for the Captain or one of her people to update him. "I will make a call to SID; make sure that they know this case takes priority."

"I doubt very much that they will require the reminder," Sharon pointed out, "but it cannot hurt at this point, specifically since we have very little to go on." She gave a small, delicate shrug. "Lisa's alibi is checking out, but we expected that. The security footage that we have accessed has, so far, proven completely useless."

Taylor leaned forward again. He clasped his hands against the top of his desk as a frown formed between his brows. "How so?" He had, like the others, hoped the security footage would give them a direction to move in. He wasn't looking forward to having to explain to Chief Pope that they had several hours on this case and absolutely nothing accomplished.

Sharon crossed her legs and folded her arms across her chest. "We found no bullet casings at the scene. No one was able to hear the shooting, as far as we can tell, and the car was more or less clean. Add to that, there was a van positioned in the way of the cameras across the street. It was almost as if our shooter knew that they would be there. Buzz is working on getting us the footage from the traffic cams, but I am not convinced that we will learn anything further." Her lips pursed and she shook her head at him. "This is too clean. Way too clean for a crime of passion, or anything other than a well thought out, well planned _hit_."

"You're thinking," Taylor didn't like the idea that his mind had gone in that direction too, "that this murder has less to do with the Sergeant's occupation being a byproduct and more to do with it being the cause." He picked up his glasses again and held onto them for just a second before letting them drop back onto his desk. "There are people that will say that you were in FID too long. Turning this investigation internally could be problematic, you know that."

"I do." She stared at the surface of his desk, at the open autopsy report that was in front of him. "They could be right, but not all of the threats that are fielded through Professional Standards come from officers that we have investigated, disciplined or dismissed," she reminded him. "During my, not inconsiderable, time with FID," Sharon derived some small amount satisfaction from watching him wince when he realized how ageist his remark could have been taken, "I did receive my share of threats from both sides of an investigation. Sometimes clearing an officer in a Force Investigation can result in difficult feelings for the civilians or their families. They do not always agree with the findings, especially when a serious injury or death is involved. Someone could just as easily be attempting to make this look like an officer involved murder, rather than a revenge killing. In either case, one thing is very clear…"

"We are going to have to ask FID to open Sergeant Elliot's cases for the last six months." Taylor sat back in his chair again with a sigh. They would need to focus on those that had resulted in serious disciplinary action or termination as well as those where the officers were cleared. "I do not have to tell you how difficult that is going to be?"

"Hm." Sharon almost smiled. "They are my rules, so no; I do not believe that you do." Crossing the line that existed between FID and other divisions was particularly harrowing. There were regulations in place that fell under the mandates of the State and Federal Governments, but there were quite a few that the LAPD had put in place based upon her recommendations. As Taylor so enjoyed pointing out, she had been an officer with the LAPD for quite some time, and the majority of that tenure was spent in Internal Affairs. "There is a confidentiality factor that will need to be maintained. Force cases do not always originate on the streets of Los Angeles, and I should not have to tell _you_ that." It was rare, but it happened, that an officer became uncomfortable with the conduct of a member of his or her division, division head, or even his or her own partner. They liked to maintain the anonymity of those officers as much as possible. The LAPD had a strict non-retaliation policy, but it also had another more unspoken rule. _Snitches get stitches._ It was about maintaining the safety of those officers as much as their professional integrity.

There was also, too, the confidentiality of those officers who had been investigated. Not everyone needed to know who the trouble cases were. Sometimes they were well known. Her own Lieutenant Flynn, for example, had a jacket a mile thick. She had pointed that out to him a number of times. There was a time, in his youth, when his mouth and temper had gotten him into trouble before his brain could catch up. There were also the investigations that were being conducted without the officer or his division knowing about it. As she thought through all of the scenarios that they would have to careful of, Sharon also considered the FID jackets that the rest of her Division had and almost groaned out loud. That was going to be problematic. There were no open cases currently that she was aware of, but Detective Sanchez was still subject to review based upon his conduct the previous year.

Taylor could almost see the wheels turning in her head. He inclined his head and watched her think. A smirk began to tug at the corner of his mouth. He steepled his fingers together and just waited. He could see when the Captain arrived at the same conclusion that he did. Taylor's brows rose in something very close to amusement. "You can take Buzz with you. He hasn't had time to annoy anyone in FID yet."

Sharon was tempted to roll her eyes at him. She settled on a bland look instead. "Well, let's give him some time. He has only just started reserving, and he is learning from the very best, after all." She sighed. "I will take Lieutenant Provenza and Detective Sykes. She has the least amount of exposure to FID and his rank should suffice." It had been a little while since Amy had been involved in an FID investigation, a couple of years at least, and the same was true for the Lieutenant. "We won't be able to bring any of those cases back to the Murder Room. We will need to review those files within the PSB offices. While we are doing that, I will have the rest of my team continue to canvas the area around the gym where Sergeant Elliot was killed and compile what little evidence we have been able to gather."

"I will call Lieutenant Wheaton," Taylor held up a hand before she could argue. "I will tell him that he should expect to hear from you very soon and make sure that he is aware that we expect him to cooperate. I cannot imagine any circumstances in which he would not want to, but, we are entering a bit of an obstacle course here."

She snorted quietly as she pushed out of her chair. "Oh, don't worry, Chief. I will do my absolute best to make sure that you do not fall on your face in the mud."

Taylor shook his head at her retreating form. "Mmhm." He wasn't filled with a lot of reassurance. In fact, he wasn't filled with a lot of warm and fuzzy feelings at all. None of them were. "Get your people in place, Captain. The clock is ticking."

"Of that," she stated, "I am perfectly aware." Sharon left the Chief to make his phone call and made her way back toward the murder room. She stopped along the way to fill a cup with the coffee that she knew someone on her team would have already brewed. If she was lucky, it was Amy. Julio hadn't been there, and both Buzz and Tao tended to make it too strong. On the other hand, if Andy had done it, she knew that she could kiss her stomach-lining goodbye. When she stepped into the break room and found the afore mentioned man waiting for her, she wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or dive right into the pot of coffee without bothering to care that she could be ingesting jet fuel strength caffeine. When he held her favorite cup out toward her, Sharon's brows rose and she eyed it carefully.

Andy rolled his eyes at her. "Amy made it." He held the cup a little closer and gave her a dry look. "Do you want it or not? If you don't want it, I'll drink it, but the pot is just about empty and I can't promise what the next one will be like." He was also tempted to point out that she was the only one who seemed to have a problem with his coffee making skills. Rusty liked it, and since the kid had no problem letting them know when he was unhappy about something, Andy had no reason to doubt that he was being honest about it. Instead, Andy arched a brow at her and waited for her to take the cup.

Her eyes narrowed just slightly. "Hands off, Lieutenant." Sharon took the cup from him and leaned against the counter beside him. She sighed quietly. Her feet were aching, her neck was stiff, and there was a dull throbbing behind her eyes. She lifted the cup to her lips and took just a moment to inhale the fragrant aroma. Definitely Amy, she thought. She had used the lighter, French roast. She took a sip and hummed appreciatively; then she leaned her head against his shoulder. It had been a difficult night, and it was far from over. "I don't have time for this," she mumbled, more to herself.

"Take a minute," He said. He stood there, while the seconds ticked by. It had been a long day; she was tired when he dropped her off earlier. He couldn't imagine that she had done more than change for bed and talk to Rusty when the roll-out came. That was before they had known that this was anything but one of their usual cases. He had tried to cancel their evening because of the fact that she was tired. They hadn't been exceptionally busy lately, but it was budget time. She was spending most of her time in her office lost in a world of numbers and expense justifications. Sharon had wanted to go out, however. She needed something to think about other than the numbers that were bleeding together when she closed her eyes, and she wanted to spend that time with him. Well, she definitely had something else to think about now. It was a hell of a way to end what had been a pretty great night. "Okay?"

"No." Sharon stared into her cup. Five minutes, she thought, she could spare that much to clear her head before she had to get everyone moving again. That would give Taylor time enough to make his call. It wouldn't be time wasted. Sharon closed her eyes, but quickly opened them again when she was greeted with the memory of the Sergeant lying on the autopsy table. "I thought," she said quietly, "that losing Ally was hard. I didn't see through her lies, and I allowed her to use me. I couldn't imagine anything being harder than watching Amy be assaulted while we were unable to help. Suspending Julio…" That had definitely ached for a while. "That one was really hard, but calling Vicki and Charlie and having to explain to them that your condition had worsened," she said of his ex-wife and son, "that was harder. Telling Lisa Elliot that her husband was never coming home again…" Her voice hitched and she shook her head. "That one wins an award that I never wanted to get near."

Andy didn't say anything. He slipped a hand beneath her hair and cupped the back of her neck. She was tense, but it was hardly a surprise. His fingers worked at the stiffness that he found there while he thought about what she said. He hadn't known her well enough during the Ally Moore case to be able to comment on it. The woman had been a sociopath, though, so he didn't think that anyone could have seen through her crap. Amy getting hurt a few weeks after she joined their team had been tough on all of them, and he didn't want to think about the hell that his ordeal had put her through not too long ago. She had cried over Julio, although he was sworn to secrecy about that. She was pissed as hell over what he had done, stressed out about Rusty and Stroh, and so disappointed that she could barely stand it. Thing was, she got over it. Julio came back. Life went on. That wasn't going to happen this time. She had lost one of hers, and in the worst way possible. To stretch a situation from terrible to really screwed up, he had a pretty good idea of what she was thinking when she went to talk to Taylor.

"You'll check on Lisa in the morning," he said quietly. "Then you'll call your kids. I told Rusty to make sure he didn't say anything if he spoke to them before you could. While you're waiting to do all that, you'll figure out who you can take with you to go through all of Elliot's cases, because you and I both know that's the next step, and we also know that I can't go with you." He looked down at her. His eyes held the same grim determination that had greeted her at the crime scene, although they softened just a tad when she met his gaze. "I was banned from that particular set of offices."

"Hm." Sharon lifted her coffee cup again. She hid her smile behind the rim as she took a sip. "Yes," she said afterward, "I remember. Something about harassing the officers responsible for a couple of your conduct reviews."

"You would know," he reminded her. "You were the one that banned me." His hand dropped away from her neck when she straightened. "One little shouting match, and all of a sudden I am the bad guy." Andy shook his head at her and lifted his own coffee cup for a sip. "I never understood that."

"I seem to remember that incident a little differently," Sharon said, "and I will be glad to remind you later." There had been a few choice names that didn't really need repeating. Things had changed quite a bit since then, and so had the both of them. "As to the ban," she shrugged at him, "I lifted it a few weeks later; I just wasn't required to inform you about it."

"I feel cheated," he deadpanned. Andy took a good, long look at her. She seemed to stand a little straighter than when she entered the break room. Nothing could erase the grief that was dimming her eyes, nothing but time, and finding the person responsible. "When?"

"As soon as possible." She explained her intention to take Amy and his partner along for that leg of the investigation. She didn't question how he had known. She didn't have to, not at this point in their relationship. She had stopped asking how it was that he always knew and just accepted it. "That means that we should really get back out there." The minute that he had suggested that she take was long over. "I want you and Julio to take over finding that van. You are probably right about it, but I will feel better when it is located."

"Yes ma'am." Just like that, they were back to work. He felt a little better about it as he watched her fully pull her mask into place. Andy moved around her and pulled the door of the break room open. "I will call down to Traffic if Buzz hasn't received anything yet and rattle a few cages. How far back are you going to dig?"

"Six months." She cradled her coffee cup in both hands and walked alongside him back to the murder room. "That should give us a good vantage point of the cases that the Sergeant has been working lately. If there were any credible threats made, he would have logged them in the files. I will be reachable on my cell if you find anything."

They stopped beside his desk and he nodded. "Yeah, well," Andy shrugged. "I'm betting you find something before we do." They would keep digging, but he was thinking that she was probably right. This had something to do with Elliot's work. They would find less running down generic old vans than she would find at the source, but they would keep at it.

She only hummed in response. "Lieutenant Provenza, Detective Sykes, will you both join me please..." She would give them a brief run-down of what they would be doing before she made her call to Lieutenant Wheaton, something that she wanted both of them to be present for. She wasn't expecting a lot of resistance. Wheaton was another that she had trained, and she knew that he would want to get to the bottom of this every bit as quickly and efficiently as she did.

 **-TBC-**


	5. Chapter 5

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

When the Internal Affairs group of the LAPD was founded in 1949 no one within the department could have foreseen that the small investigative division would grow to the size and necessity that it currently maintained. What once began as a small group of police officers with the responsibility of making sure that the city's own did not become corrupted had grown to encompass three divisions with a police force that was made up of several dozen officers. It was now called the Professional Standards Bureau and was made up of its own Special Operations Division, Force Investigation, and Internal Affairs, which had been further broken down into Criminal and Administrative Investigative groups.

The PSB had long since been removed from the offices and infrastructure of the primary LAPD, in part due to size, but primarily because of the confidentiality and oversight that the group had to maintain to efficiently perform its function. When Force Investigation was added to that department in 2001 it was moved from the old Parker Center offices to a new facility downtown. Professional Standards expanded further in the years that followed and was given its own labs and databases. Each division within that department reported to a single commanding officer, Commander Sam Michaelson, who in turn reported directly to Assistant Chief Taylor.

Michaelson had been in charge of Professional Standards since early 2001, and everyone within and outside of the bureau had known that the Commander was grooming Raydor to be his replacement… not that a lot of grooming had gone into that professional relationship, but it was known that she would be taking his place when he retired. It was a retirement that was delayed when the Captain made the move to Major Crimes.

There were not a lot of people who remembered that when Raydor had made the move from Patrol to Internal Affairs that she was originally assigned to the Special Operations section of that department. She was with that division until making the move to the Criminal Investigations group within Internal Affairs. She had come up through the ranks under Michaelson's wing, and when he was promoted to Commander, no one within Professional Standards was overly surprised that his first task had been to place the then Lieutenant within the newly formed Force Investigation Division. Her promotion to Captain was a few more years in coming, but it had only been a matter of time as long as Michaelson was pulling the strings within Professional Standards.

Even with that history behind her, and knowing all of the players as well as she did, Sharon was still surprised to find Commander Michaelson waiting for them when she and her officers entered the lobby of the Professional Standards building. "Commander." Sharon did not allow her surprise to show as she greeted him. "I was expecting Lieutenant Wheaton."

Michaelson took her hand when she offered it, but instead of the friendly handshake she was expecting, he cupped her small hand in both of his. He was a tall man, and his once sandy colored hair had long grayed. He was finding these days that his frame stooped a little more than it had in his youth, and so he didn't quite have to look so far down to speak to his old protégé as he used to. "Sharon." He offered a solemn nod and a sad smile. "I'm sorry about Matthew."

There was a time when he thought that the younger officer was too stubborn, too passionate. The Commander questioned her resolve to train him. Time had passed, though, and he began to see as she did, the potential that Elliot held for their line of work. Sharon nodded once. Her face softened into a small smile that held gratitude as well as grief. "Thank you, Sam. So am I."

She moved beyond his little kingdom, but she left him Elliot. Wheaton had not been his first choice for a replacement when the Chief told him, in no uncertain terms, that Sharon was transferring. It was no secret that he would have preferred to move Elliot into that position, but a Sergeant could not command a division, and the promotions freeze had tied his hands. Michaelson was forced to choose from his existing pool of eligible Lieutenants. The writing had been on the wall, however, when the promotions freeze was over Elliot would be promoted and Wheaton would be given the choice of stepping aside or transferring to another division. Sharon made a mental note to look into that too. She couldn't imagine any situation where professional jealousy would have driven Mark Wheaton to commit the kind of act that brought them here tonight. More heinous crimes had occurred, though, and her division had investigated those too.

Sharon gestured to the two officers that were with her. "Commander Michaelson, you know Lieutenant Provenza," she said, making the introduction.

"I do." Sam shook his head as his attention moved to the older man. He had tangled with the old man more than once in his time, and a few of those had been because of recommendations made by the Captain in front of him. "Lieutenant, my department appreciates the assistance that you had sent out to the Elliot house. I know Lisa will appreciate it too, as well as the call that you made to the Pullman police department on her behalf."

Sharon's brows rose in surprise. She turned to the Lieutenant beside her. "I was not aware…"

Provenza shrugged. It wasn't such a great feat. "I had them send a grief counselor out to sit with the family while Mrs. Elliot phoned her daughter. It's not unheard of."

No, she thought, it wasn't. She hadn't considered that, but then Sharon had to realize that she had a lot of things on her mind at present. She couldn't always think of everything; she was grateful to have people around her that she could trust to step in when it was needed. "Thank you, Lieutenant." She turned before she could allow herself to become too emotional about it and indicated the younger officer that was with them. "Detective Amy Sykes. She will be assisting the Lieutenant and I with this portion of the investigation."

"Detective," Michaelson nodded. "Under better circumstances, it would be a pleasure to meet you."

"Yes sir. I agree." Amy nodded once. She understood the sentiment, and it was one that she shared. Normally she would have enjoyed meeting her Captain's mentor and former partner, but this was far from normal. Or more sadly, it was exactly normal; this was precisely what they did, just not always for their own officers.

"Well," Michaelson let his gaze sweep over the group again before he nodded. "I know that Lieutenant Wheaton and Sergeant Davis are waiting for us upstairs. I suggest we get the reason for this visit started."

The Commander led them to the elevator bank and rode with them up to the fifth floor. It was there that the offices and labs of the Force Investigation Division had been housed since PSB had taken over the building in 2002. It was rather odd, but walking those halls, there was a part of Sharon that felt as though she had never left, while at the same time she had never felt so far removed from it all. The bullpen that FID operated out of was located at the end of a corridor. The walls were lined with glass. Commander Michaelson swiped his security badge and let them in through a pair of double doors. As they entered, Sharon had to fight the urge to smile at Provenza's quietly muttered _Welcome to the fish bowl._

Sharon had to agree that it had always felt a little like that. From inside the bullpen they could watch people coming and going, all of the officers and techs assigned to that floor, and anyone else that had access to their labs. She shook her head a bit, and once inside the bullpen, Sharon stopped to look around. A few of the desks had been rearranged, but it looked more or less exactly as it had the last time that she was there, almost five years before.

The office that was once hers stood open in the far corner. Like her current office it was bracketed on two sides with glass walls. It was smaller, however, and without the attached conference room. She felt a sense of nostalgia wash over her as she stood there. She had not enjoyed feeling like an outsider around other officers, but her years spent in this division were not bad ones. She had made friends and it had allowed her to advance her career in ways that were not open to women during the time that she had been coming up through the ranks of the LAPD. She owed quite a lot to the years spent working with these people, and while she enjoyed the people that she worked with now, and the job that they did, she would always be grateful, and she would always believe in the principles and values for which Professional Standards stood.

Lieutenant Mark Wheaton moved across the bullpen to greet them. "Captain Raydor, Lieutenant." He nodded to Sykes, although he did not readily know her. "We have everything gathered for you in the conference room," He waved a hand toward the large room to their immediate left. There were boxes stacked along one wall that held the cases that they would need to review. "Anything current is still in the Sergeant's desk. We did not remove it, we thought you might need to do a full catalogue."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Sharon turned where she stood and let her gaze fall on the Sergeant's desk. It had not been moved. He sat, where he always had, at the desk just outside of the ranking officer's office. He had chosen it because of the windows along that wall. Elliot liked having a lot of light, and he liked being able to look out on the city. They didn't have the best view on the fifth floor, but it wasn't horrible either. Sharon walked over to the desk and stood there for a moment. It was as she expected to find it; the surface was cleared of everything but his desk calendar, computer and a few personal items. She smiled at the pictures of his wife and kids that were arranged around his computer monitor.

Sharon laid a hand on the back of his desk chair and sighed quietly as she pushed it back. She pulled her phone from her pocket and took pictures of the desk and how it was arranged before she sat in the chair. She reached for the drawer where she knew the Sergeant to have kept his files. Sharon pulled it open and took a picture before she placed her phone aside and began to flip through the neatly arranged file folders. They were marked by case classification and arranged by date.

While the Captain was looking through the Sergeant's case files, Lieutenant Provenza ventured closer. He stood nearby and let his gaze wander over the photos that were lining the window ledge beside the Sergeant's desk. It seemed to be an array of photos that depicted team events and occasions. There were a few with the new commanding officer, Wheaton, but most of them seemed to depict their Captain with her former team. From the looks of them they spanned several years. There were photos from a charity softball event, the same event that was held each year, and that several divisions throughout the LAPD participated in. The photo made Provenza scowl, as he recalled it, the Captain had a mean under-handed fastball. Not even Julio had ever been able to get a hit, and he was always their best hitter at those games.

Provenza shook his head and looked at the photo next to it, the one nearest the Sergeant's desk. His eyes narrowed as he bent down to get a better look at it. A low snort escaped him. Provenza picked up the framed photograph and stared at it a little bit incredulously. There on the FID white board was the nameplate that was stolen from the door leading into the Major Crimes murder room seven years before. It had been mounted on the board and the word _Crimes_ had a broad line drawn through it in bright red marker. Arranged around the board were caricatures of the Major Crimes team, drawn in dry erase marker, and depicted rather comically. In fact, the word _Clowns_ had been written above the name plate. Provenza turned and fixed his captain with a long look. _Major Clowns_?"

Sharon glanced over. Her attention fell on the picture. She smiled as she reached for it. She lifted it out of his hands with a shake of her head. "You had your little jokes, Lieutenant. We had ours. I seem to recall a rather well drawn witch, complete with broomstick and flying house."

"It was you!" Provenza shook his finger at her. "You stole our nameplate. I don't believe this. You... you... thief!"

Sharon simply arched a brow at him. She blinked. A small smile curved her lips. "As a matter of fact, Lieutenant, the plate was not stolen at all. Rather, it was gifted to us; it was even wrapped nicely with a little blue bow."

His jaw dropped open. "I don't believe it. Who would..." He stopped and his eyes widened. " _Flynn._ I knew it! He is going to hear about this one."

Beside them Amy was shaking her head. "Why do you think that the Lieutenant did it?" She asked. Just because the Captain and Lieutenant were dating now did not mean that he was involved in everything that she did. Amy seemed to remember a few stories that Julio and Mike had told her that described an entirely different kind of relationship. They had barely liked each other at one point. She found it hard to believe, but apparently it just made the _dating thing_ as the guys called it more amusing to them.

"Yes," Sharon asked calmly, "why do you believe that it was Lieutenant Flynn?"

"I... I..." There was something in the way that her eyes glittered that made Provenza's eyes narrow. "Julio." If there was one other person who had a crush on the Captain before she came to work with them, it was Sanchez, who just happened to be the only member of their team who had not participated in the _Witch Incident_ as it was now referred. Provenza huffed a sigh and shot a glare at Amy when she attempted to cover a laugh. "Did they have to draw my nose so big?"

Sergeant Davis, who had joined them, just smiled fondly at the memory. "Well, the Captain always was a pretty decent artist."

The light that had entered the Captain's eyes dimmed suddenly. Her smile faltered as she placed the photo back in its original space. She sighed quietly and shook her head. "No, that time it was Sergeant Elliot. Major Crimes was giving me a rather difficult time over the Terrell Baylor case. It was the Sergeant's attempt at cheering me up."

The small group surrounding the desk immediately sobered. "Yes, well..." Provenza lifted the files that she had already pulled from inside the drawer. "We can begin going through these first," he told Amy. "The Captain can join us after she checks the rest of the Sergeant's records."

Sharon passed the younger Detective another stack of files and watched as her two officers moved off to the conference room. Her attention moved then, back to the Sergeant that was standing in front of the desk. "Jake, I know that Matthew kept records on his family, in case of emergency. Can you access that server for me? We need to run elimination prints against those we took from Matthew's car."

"Yes ma'am." Sergeant Davis moved away. His desk was positioned nearer to the center of the room. He took a seat behind it and began going through the network drive that belonged exclusively to FID. "I can inbox it directly to Major Crimes," he told her, "or would you rather I just send the files to you?"

"No," Sharon looked up from the case file that she was paging through; it was the Sergeant's most recent assignment. "Go ahead and inbox the files to Lieutenant Tao. You can copy myself and Lieutenants Flynn and Provenza."

Wheaton, who had remained nearby, shook his head. "Your division is run by a Captain and three lieutenants, that must be convenient."

"Hm." Sharon only spared a glance. "It can be. Each of my officers is well trained and highly experienced." When she did look up, it was to peer at the Lieutenant over the rims of her glasses. "I felt the same way when I was in charge of this division. There are pending promotions for a few of the officers here. The freeze has held them where they are currently, but once it is fully released, I expect that will change."

"Sergeant Elliot was in line for one of those," Wheaton commented.

"Yes he was." From the corner of her eye Sharon was aware of Sergeant Davis looking at them. He stood up when he realized where the conversation was going and stepped into the conference room to assist her detectives. Sharon looked over at Commander Michaelson who had continued to linger with them in the FID bullpen. "I recommended the Sergeant for promotion several times while he was under my command. I fully expected that he would reach the rank of Lieutenant by the end of this year." The promotions freeze was ending at the end of their current fiscal year; the new fiscal period would begin in April. Sharon imagined that quite a few promotion ceremonies would be held over the summer months.

"I made sure his name was on the list again," Sam stated. The Commander leaned against the edge of a neighboring desk. "This department has a lot of names on that list." He wasn't going to mention that Wheaton wasn't one of them. He saw no reason to promote the Lieutenant to Captain when he was planning to replace him.

Sharon lifted the stack of files that she was paging through and stood. "Lieutenant, is there some reason that you are bringing this up now? Do you think that it may have played a role in the Sergeant's murder?"

Wheaton shrugged. "I don't think anyone in this division had anything to do with it, but a lot of people knew that Elliot was on the short list. If anyone felt slighted for not being on that list, or felt like they needed to stop him from advancing..." He trailed off and sighed. "His work was impeccable." The Lieutenant nodded to the files in her arms. "I don't have to tell you that. If someone wanted to get rid of Elliot, that was the only way to do it."

"That is exactly why we are here, Lieutenant." Sharon moved around the desk. "If you are right, we will figure it out." She nodded to Michaelson. "Commander, I will copy you on my reports to Chief Taylor."

"Thank you, Captain." Sam straightened. "Mark, I am going back up to my office. I trust that you will continue to make sure that the Captain gets everything that she and her team needs?"

"Yes sir." He nodded. It chaffed a little, it was his division now, but he was outranked where the Captain was concerned. He wondered if she knew that she had cast a very large shadow, one that he was still, five years later, trying to move out of. He was met with resistance, even outside of his own division. Wheaton could not count the number of times that he had heard someone say to him _"Even Raydor wouldn't pull this crap._ " After a while he had gotten tired of hearing what Raydor would or would not have done. Now here she was, digging in to cases worked by his division, investigating the murder of one of _his_ , and everyone was acting as though she was owed this right.

Wheaton shook his head as she walked away. It actually chaffed a hell of a lot when he really thought about it. This investigation should have come to him. It was one of his officers that was dead. He was not even allowed the courtesy of informing the family. Wheaton wondered if Raydor knew that this was just one more example of why people all over the LAPD still called her the _Dragon Lady_. He turned where he stood and walked back into his office. No one appreciated having their division investigated, and he would stay until the group from Major Crimes was finished.

Sharon was still frowning when she stepped into the conference room with the others. Her head tilted to one side. It was an odd exchange, but she supposed that she would feel the same way if it were her division that was under the microscope. Lieutenant Provenza's concerned look had her shaking her head. "Let's get through this as quickly as we can. We do not want to keep FID tied up any longer than we have to."

Provenza snorted quietly but said nothing on the matter. He quite agreed, but if the whole lot of nothing that he had seen so far was any indication, they were not getting out of there anytime soon.

 **-TBC-**


	6. Chapter 6

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

 **A/N:** For **B** **abi** , who waited so patiently for some #Shandy.

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

It was almost noon the following day before Sharon sent any of her people home. It had taken her and those with her hours to go through Sergeant Elliots current and past cases. There were a few threats logged, those that seemed credible enough to go on record. They were what Sharon expected to find, disgruntled former officers and unhappy civilian family members. Her instincts told her not to expect much to come from them, but they made note of the information and her team began the task of trying to track down all the involved parties.

While Sharon was at Professional Standards with Provenza and Sykes the footage from the traffic cameras was received. It was just as Andy had predicted. They couldn't see the driver of the van and the license plate belonged to an SUV that was reported as stolen earlier in the week. They were coordinating with Robbery-Homicide to completely rule out that connection, but it left them in an uncomfortable and tenuous position. They didn't have any leads to go on, at least none that were compelling.

That was not a situation that Sharon was especially thrilled about, but they had suspected that finding the Sergeant's killer would not be a simple matter. Their suspicions were being proven true. She truly wished that they had been wrong.

With nothing to go on and what appeared to be a long investigation ahead of them, Sharon sent her team home for a couple of hours. She gave them enough time to eat, shower, and nap before they reported back to the Murder Room to continue trying to find something that would lead them to Sergeant Elliot's killer.

It seemed, for a moment, that she might not heed her own orders, but Sharon had calls to make and she wanted to freshen up as much as the others did. She was home for half an hour before she bothered stepping into the shower. She had phoned Ricky first, and then Emily. Then she called to check on Lisa Elliot. She wasn't able to speak to the widow, but she was able to touch base with the grief counselor that was assisting the family. Sharon left a message for the other woman, and then she turned her attention to the shower.

She set the water as hot as she could stand it and stood watching the steam fill her bathroom. Rusty wasn't home. She was there alone, but she still waited until she stepped beneath the stinging, almost punishing spray before she allowed the tight control that she had maintained on her emotions to slip away. The water that spilled down on her in almost scalding sheets could wash away the visual evidence of her tears, but it could do little to erase the raw grief that lay behind them.

When she closed her eyes she could see Elliot as he had been in the morgue, gray and lifeless, the remains of a body that had been cut open and examined. She could see him, too, sitting in the front seat of his car, slumped forward with part of his head missing. It sent a shiver through her, despite the heat of the water all around her. She had witnessed worse. They saw death all around them everyday. It was the profession that she had chosen, a calling that was more than simply a job. This was not the first time that such images had affected her, but this time she knew the person starring in the movie reel that was playing inside of her mind.

Sharon pressed a hand against the tiled wall of the shower and stood hunched. She pressed her other hand against her breastbone and took a thin, shuddering breath. Her chest ached; it burned. It was a pain that rose into her throat and burst forth with a single, choked sob that rocked her small frame. She allowed herself to slide into the grief, and so did not start when a cool breeze fell upon her shoulders, nor when a pair of large hands drew her backward.

The arms that circled her were familiar and dear. Sharon leaned backward and found herself completely engulfed. Her small wrists were held in one large palm, while the other splayed across her stomach. She felt lips brush her shoulder, and the tickle of a day's worth of beard growth against her neck when he tucked his face there. She drew another breath and tipped her head slightly to the side, and let herself rest almost completely against the man that was holding her. He couldn't take away the weight of her grief, but he could help her carry it, and she would let him.

"I love you." Did she say it enough? Sharon questioned that now as she thought of Lisa Elliot, preparing to bury her husband. What was enough? If every day was filled with the same words or actions, would that come close to expressing the wealth of emotion that one person could feel for another? Was it even possible to put into words, or even deeds, the importance that a single human being could carry in your life? Sharon didn't have to extend her mind very far to imagine even a fraction of what Lisa Elliot was currently experiencing, she had come entirely too close to that herself; it was closer than she ever wanted to think about. It seemed impossible and even a little ridiculous to say or think that one human being could not live without another, it could be done, physically it was possible, and perhaps even emotionally. She would have been able to go on, she had her children and her friends, her career and a number of hobbies… but there would be a very large piece of her missing. She would exist with a portion of herself hollowed out. It would hurt, and she imagined that every day she would feel that pain, that she would feel the absence of that part of herself.

The arms that were wrapped around her pulled her closer. The embrace was tightened. Andy pressed his lips into her wet hair and let his lips move against her ear. He almost didn't hear her over the sound of the shower. She had spoken almost too quietly in a voice that was thick and trembling with emotion. His thumb stroked a gentle caress against her stomach. "I know," he told her. Words could hold a great deal of power, or they could be spoken too often to carry much meaning. He knew, every day that they were together, and even when they were apart, he did not have to question the strength or commitment of her heart. It was in every touch, and expressed in every look. It was in the way that she said his name, and in all of the simple ways that they took care of one another.

It was in the tea cabinet that was always stocked at work, because he knew she preferred the lighter blends. It was in the coffee that he would find in her cupboard, the stronger, dark roast when Andy knew that Sharon liked a gourmet coffee – on those occasions that she actually drank it. It was the way that she got him extra dressing for his salad when she made the lunch run, because he had eat healthy, but he didn't always have to be _that_ healthy. It being so tired he thought he could fall asleep standing up, but driving across town to Los Feliz instead of going home so that he could hold the woman that he loves. Andy had known that he would find her in the shower. It was where she always hid her tears. That was something that he learned during the weeks that he was recovering at her condo.

Back then the idea of sliding into the shower with her and wiping them away had occurred to him, but they had not been ready for that now. Time had changed. Just as time changed a lot of things. People were born, they grew older, and they died… but often enough they died much too early and from causes that were far from normal. Andy slowly turned Sharon around in front of him. His hands cupped her face. He tipped her head back and let his thumbs sweep across her cheeks. Her eyes were red, and her lips slightly swollen from having been scraping at them with her teeth, something that he knew that she did when she was especially upset. His head lowered and he pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

"I love you." The words rumbled quietly in the shower. Andy drew her against him again. His arms circled her; a hand cupped the back of her head and he tucked it beneath his chin. He held her there and turned slightly, so that the water was pelting down on both of them. He felt her shudder and knew that the tears had started to fall in abundance then. He said nothing else, however, as he stood with her beneath the shower's spray. He would just hold on, and let the water wash it all away.

Afterward, while Sharon got ready to go back to the office Andy put together a quick lunch of warm sandwiches and hot soup. It was simple, but comforting. He brewed a pot of coffee, but knew that Sharon would want tea. He was just pouring hot water into her favorite teacup when she joined him in the kitchen.

Sharon came to a stop just inside the room. She stood watching. His attention was on the cup in his hands. His hip was leaning against the counter behind him with his legs crossed at the ankles. There had been a change of clothes for him in her closet, but he had forgone the dress shirt and tie. Sharon glanced toward the table and noticed that they were hanging on the back of a chair, along with his jacket. He seemed perfectly at home standing in her kitchen, plain, white t-shirt tucked into his trousers and her favorite teacup cradled in his large hand while he slowly steeped the tea bag. She supposed that he would be, given the weeks that they had lived together while he was recovering.

Andy had not wanted to feel like a patient during that time. His activities were limited, but he had done his very best to be a helpful roommate while he was prevented from being on his own. Cooking seemed to be the least strenuous of the chores that he attempted, and the only one that Sharon would really allow him to do. She was perfectly aware at just how frustrated he was during those weeks. He was a stubborn and proud man, and one that had been living alone for a very long time; suddenly he was thrust into a situation of living with his girlfriend and her son, and unable to complete some of his most basic activities. She knew that it had taken a lot for him to bite his tongue and go with the flow, but he had managed it, and as overbearing as she might have seemed during that time, Sharon couldn't be sorry about it now. He was there, and he was alive, and in terms of their relationship she really believed that they were stronger for it.

They were able to gain a level of intimacy that took months to build; they were able to learn little things about one another that all of their months of friendship had not taught them. A small smile curved her lips as she watched him hold her cup in one hand and reach for his coffee with the other. The shift in his attention had him noticing her. Their eyes met and she watched the gold flecks in his brown eyes light up. She loved the way those dark eyes changed colors with his mood; the way that they seemed almost golden when he was happy or could darken to a color that was virtually black with passion. He could say so much to her, in the space of only a few seconds, and without uttering a single word.

He did that now. Sharon could see in the way that his gaze swept over her and the slight tilt of his head before their eyes met again that he gauging her mood and assuring himself that she was okay. Sharon left her spot beside the bar and walked over to join him. She accepted the tea when he held it out for her, and smiled down at the cup when he kissed the top of her head in greeting.

When she leaned against the counter beside him, Andy reached up and laid a hand against the back of her neck. There was a tension in her muscles that he knew would not be easily released, not until their current case was closed. That didn't stop his fingers from working at those tight and tired muscles. He smiled a bit when he glanced at her, just the barest upturn at the corner of his mouth. He liked the shorter hair; Andy knew that he had told her that a number of times since he first saw her with the layered locks barely brushing her shoulders. It suited her, but what he liked best was how easily he could gather it aside and gain access to her neck. That was something that he did now. Andy leaned toward her and kissed the spot just behind her ear. It was a brief touch, soft and gentle, but not allowed to linger.

He moved away from her then and nodded his head toward the table. "Let's eat something before our phones start ringing."

Sharon wasn't especially hungry but she knew that he was right. The thought of putting food in her stomach made it clench painfully, but she knew that not eating would be much worse. She pushed away from the counter and moved out of the kitchen with him. There were grilled cheese sandwiches and a tomato and basil soup that was her favorite waiting for them. Sharon laid a hand on his arm as he held out her chair for her. She offered a small smile and let her hand slide down his arm in a simple caress. "You didn't have to do this, but thank you."

He shrugged at her, but his eyes were sparkling. "I'm hungry." They both had a way of hovering over the other, and it could be as frustrating as it was endearing. They found ways of dealing with it, because looking the other way was becoming less and less of an option and letting go seemed more impossible every day.

Andy managed to get her chair tucked in and slide into his own seat before her phone began ringing. Sharon rolled her eyes and let go of a mirthless chuckle. Such was the life that they lived, although she supposed that it could just as easily be Rusty or one of her other kids, checking in with her. "It's okay." She laid a hand on his arm and then slipped out of her chair. Sharon walked over and retrieved her phone from where she had left it plugged into the charger on her desk. The number was not one that she recognized. She frowned as she answered it. "This is Captain Raydor."

"Sharon." The number had been unfamiliar, but the voice was not. "It's Lisa." Her voice was low, and trembling with grief and exhaustion. "I know that I probably should not be bothering you right now…"

"Nonsense." Sharon straightened immediately. She cast a concerned look at Andy and walked back toward the table with her phone. He had turned in his chair and was watching her closely. She laid a hand on his shoulder as she spoke. "Lisa, it is never a bother. I am here for whatever you need."

"I appreciate that, Sharon." Lisa sighed. "That isn't why I am calling. I was going through the safe," her voice hitched slightly and she paused for a moment. "I was looking for the insurance forms and our wills. I found something that I think that you should see."

The line between her brows grew deeper. Sharon's gaze drifted away from Andy and she shook her head, despite the fact that the other woman could not see it. "I am not sure that I understand, Lisa. What did you find?"

"Matthew never brought his work home, Sharon. He worked late, or he worked weekends, but he never brought any of his case files into the house. He kept his work and our home life separate. You taught him that." Lisa paused for a moment before continuing. "I found a file in the safe. I don't really know what it all means, but there was a note in the folder for you. I didn't read it. It's sealed in an envelope. Sharon…" Lisa broke off and took a thin breath. "Do you think this—"

"Lisa," Sharon cut her off before she could take their conversation in that direction. "I do not believe that we can infer anything at this point. Where is the case file now?"

Andy stood up at the change in her tone. It was a subtle shift, but one from quiet concern to a deeper, more frantic sense of worry. It was not overtly noticeable, but the sudden straightening of her spine coupled with that shift in her voice told him that something had _definitely_ occurred. He took their dishes into the kitchen and returned to shrug into his shirt. Lunch was going to have to wait.

"I put it back in the safe," Lisa replied. "I thought it would be better if it stayed there until you could pick it up, or I can bring it to you—"

"No," Sharon said. "Leave it where it is. I will pick it up. One of my Lieutenants and I," she glanced at Andy and lifted her brows in askance; when he nodded she continued speaking, "will be along shortly to pick it up. Lisa, I have no idea what that case file is or why Matthew placed it where he did, but I am going to recommend that you not mention it to anyone else. If for no other reason," she suggested, "than to keep people from jumping to conclusions while our investigation is still open. Okay?"

"I understand, Sharon." Lisa sighed. "I just want to know what happened to my husband. I need to know why someone would take him from us; how could this happen?"

"I am going to do my very best to get you those answers," Sharon's voice dipped again, growing softer, "but Lisa, sometimes we just don't know why. I will see you soon."

He had only just pulled his tie around his neck when Sharon ended the call and turned toward him. Andy's hands moved in quick motions as he tied it. "Mrs. Elliot found something in the house?" He was able to gather that much from listening to Sharon's end of the conversation.

"Yes." Sharon took her teacup and his coffee mug into the kitchen. When she returned she walked across the living room and retrieved her jacket. She pulled it on over her blue blouse and pin stripe trousers. "Sergeant Elliot left a case file of some kind at the house. There was a note in it addressed to me." She tugged her jacket into place and let her arms fall to her sides. "Andy…" Sharon shook her head at him. "I am really beginning to not like how this feels." Every instinct that she had was screaming at her now. Sharon was only questioning whether or not she should listen to them, or was she too emotionally involved?

Andy finished adjusting his tie and walked over to retrieve his gun and badge from where he had left them on the bar. He arched a brow at her while he clipped them onto his belt. "What do you mean?" He could practically see the wheels in her head turning, but he also knew that they hadn't found anything by going through Elliot's FID cases. "Sharon, it looks like a hit, and it even feels like a hit, but you know that we could just as easily have a killer that thinks he's smart. It could be an old buddy, or someone that he pissed off at the gym. Not every murder is a crime of passion, but they can be just as idiotic as the rest of them."

"Yes." She folded her arms across her chest and walked over to stand nearby. She watched as he finished adjusting his handcuffs on his belt before reaching for his jacket and shrugging into it. "I know that this could be random, but it doesn't feel like it." She pressed her lips together while she thought about it. Sharon looked up at him. Their eyes met and held. She shifted where she stood and let her arms drop again. "Every thought inside my head is telling me to pull this case out of Major Crimes," she admitted, "to find who I can trust in FID and the CI section of Internal Affairs and approach it from that direction."

They were discussing the case, but Andy was not talking to his Captain in that moment. He was talking to his girlfriend. Andy straightened his jacket and pushed his hands into his pockets. He tilted his head at her and shrugged. "You think that he was killed by a cop?"

There was nothing in his tone to belie whether or not he agreed. Sharon sighed quietly. She shrugged at him. She gestured with her hands. "Why would he take that file home with him? He's never done that before, as far as his wife is aware, and further more, why would he leave a note in it addressed to me? Add all of that to everything else that we have, or rather don't have, and it is not painting a very nice picture." As she spoke, Sharon began to tick off on her fingers everything that they knew. "There were no casings at the scene. The shooting was not captured on any security cameras. The van that we believe our killer was driving is indistinct and the tags are stolen. The only prints on the car belong to Sergeant Elliot and his family, and then there is the bullet that Doctor Morales removed…"

"Which doesn't match anything in our system." The .45mm bullet had been run through their local, state, and federal databases. There was not a match to it. Police officers weapons were registered too, both their service and back up weapons and every time they chose to change weapons, they had to fire elimination rounds and register them in the LAPD database. Handguns could be bought easily, though, and an off-duty weapon did not have to be registered and it could just as easily be tossed away. Andy had to admit that it didn't look all that great, but he didn't really like where her mind was going, or that his was going there too. He didn't want to think that another cop would do this, gun down one of his or her own and leave a wife without a husband, kids without a father. Andy used to believe that Sharon was a right pain in his ass, back when she was working FID and seemed to be there every time someone got their nose out of joint over something that he did or said. He understood it a little better now, the lawsuit had helped, but so had all the trouble with Julio. Or maybe it was just getting to know her as well as he did, he didn't really know, and all of that didn't matter at the moment. What did matter was that _someone_ had killed Sergeant Matthew Elliot and if Sharon's instincts were on edge, that was all that he really needed to believe where she was leading him. Andy's lips pursed. He looked at the floor between them for a moment before he tugged his hands out of his pockets and nodded slowly. "Okay," he said, "let's go get that file. You and I will figure out what's in it, and then… You'll do what you have to do."

The smile that curved her lips was slow to blossom, but it lit her face. Sharon stared at him for a moment. Her heart swelled with emotion. She knew that she should not have questioned that he would be beside her in this, but it was a tricky situation. She knew that Andy would support her, but it was Lieutenant Flynn that she wondered about. It was a difficult thing to investigate another police officer. There was a stigma that surrounded it. Those officers that did it needed to have the right mindset. They were not above the law, they were the protectors that stood between the public and the police. They were the mirror that allowed their brothers and sisters in blue to view their own actions and be accountable for them. It was not something that everyone understood, and there were even fewer that could do the work. It took a level of objectivity that was hard to come by, it took a belief in the rules and an understanding that people were fallible, even themselves. When it came to Lieutenant Flynn there were dirt-bags and scumbags and the officers that put them behind bars. Sharon took a step closer to Andy and laid a hand against his chest. "You may not like where this takes us," she warned him in a gentle tone. As an officer he had pushed the line a number of times, but it always came out of his need to do the right thing, to protect the public, to gain justice for the victims. Even at his most frustrating and infuriating he was one of the good ones.

Andy curled his hand around hers and drew it to his lips. "Sharon, it doesn't really matter if I like it or not. There's a lot about our jobs that I could do without. The thing is, whoever killed Elliot, cop or not, doesn't matter. Still a scumbag, and one that belongs in a cell." He reached out with his other hand and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Right now, we don't really know what is going on. So let's get to work and figure that out. We can worry about where it's taking us later."

Sharon nodded. She took a step back and waved her arm toward the door. "Well then. After you, Lieutenant."

"Oh no." He grinned at her. Andy held out his arm. "After you, Captain."

She rolled her eyes at him, but she was smiling again. Sharon turned and made her way to the door. She did not have to question that he was right behind her, on her heels. She would lead and he would follow, that was the nature of their professional lives, but this time she could also feel him standing beside her. She hadn't needed to ask, he was already helping her carry the weight of this case and traverse the dark path that it seemed to be leading them down.

 **-TBC-**


	7. Chapter 7

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

It felt odd being back in the Elliot home. It was somber and quiet, and despite knowing better Sharon still expected Matthew to be there. That was nothing at all compared to what his wife and children were feeling. She pushed it all aside after Lisa left them alone in the small office that she and her husband shared. The small room was at the back of the house, on the first floor. The curtains were open, sunlight spilled into the room, giving a sense of false cheer to the day. Sharon sighed as she stared at the safe that Lisa had opened for them.

It was a small chest safe, fireproof, and positioned in a corner of the room. Sharon knelt in front of it with Andy beside her and took photographs of the contents. There were papers and folders inside, and a couple of flat, square jewelry cases. It was the sort of safe that most people kept for important concerns such as insurance forms, wills, and keepsakes. The interior of the safe was made up of two shelves. The file that Lisa called her about was lying on the top shelf. It was a brown, expanding file folder, and looked to be close to bursting at its seams.

Sharon took several pictures of the safe's interior and waited as Andy did the same before she slipped on a pair of black, sterile gloves and reached into the safe to pull the file out. They did not know what was in the file, but they preserved chain of custody just the same, and so while Sharon carried the file to the desk that was situated to their left, Andy set his phone's camera to recording. Sharon opened the folder carefully and over the next several minutes she pulled out each piece of paper, including an envelope with her name on it, and documented each one of them.

It was only after they had completely emptied the folder that Andy stopped recording and put his phone away. He slipped on a pair of gloves and stepped up to the desk alongside Sharon to begin sorting through the records that Sergeant Elliot had obtained and compiled. There was a lot of data in front of them, and singularly, it did not make a lot of sense. The Sergeant seemed to have been doing an audit of more than one division, and all of it off the record as far as his current caseload was concerned.

Andy nodded to the envelope that Sharon seemed to be avoiding. "You should open that," he said quietly. "We can dig through this all day, but we may not know what it all means until you read that."

"Yes." She wasn't necessarily avoiding the letter as she was delaying the inevitable. Sharon kept her gloves on as she reached for it. She held the envelope at its edges and opened it carefully to preserve any prints that might be on it. Inside of it Sharon found a single folded slip of paper. The handwriting was familiar. She would recognize the messy, slanting scrawl anywhere. She let Andy take a picture of the letter before she lifted it to read.

 _Sharon_ ,

 _I really hope that you are not reading this. Things are starting to get pretty sketchy, though. I knew I was going to need to leave a record of what I have been doing, along with an explanation, just in case I do not get the chance to speak to you about this in person. The more that I have hoped that I am wrong about everything, the more I keep finding out that I'm right. I could really use your advice right now. I don't like what I'm uncovering and if anyone could make sense of it, that would be you. This can't be right, but everything that you ever taught me is telling me that it is._

 _You always told us that we should follow the evidence first, but not to discount our instincts. You said that our instincts are important, that they are the difference between white and black. They are the gray area that keeps us from crossing lines that we can't jump back across and ringing bells where no alarm is needed._

 _Right now my instincts are telling me that I stumbled into a big heap of trouble. Maybe I should've stopped while I was still behind. The thing is, I wouldn't exactly be doing the right thing if I did that. I would be part of the problem, and you taught me that we needed to be part of the solution._

 _So here is the thing. I had an officer out of Narc get into a fist-fight with a suspect a few months ago. There were plenty of witnesses, both on the street and from Narc and all of them said the same thing: the suspect started it. It should've been a pretty easy case to close, and for the most part it was. While I was poking around, though, I saw some stuff that bothered me. I didn't like how uneasy a couple of the guys got about having me nose around their division. No one likes us poking around, and that's just the way it is. These guys were_ _really_ _uneasy though, Sharon. It wasn't the usual,_ oh great here comes FID _, kind of uneasy either. These guys were Grade-A nervous._

 _I could've let it go, and part of me wishes that I had, but something about it just bothered me. So after I closed my Force case, I decided to do a little extra checking. I didn't want them to know about it, so I did it off the record. I don't like anything that I found._

 _It looks like a couple of guys from Narcotics have been taking kick-backs from looking the other way on some arrests and busts that should go down. That is bad enough, and it's just the kind of thing that people always think happens in Narcotics. The only problem is, both the guys involved are transfers from Robbery-Homicide._

 _Is your stomach hurting yet? Mine sure is._

 _I had to check that out too. Seems they learned how to look the other way from inside the Department. Captain Garring was letting them, and another officer, bust guys for fencing stolen goods. They were only logging half of it into evidence; the rest was being sold on the street. It's been going on for years, Sharon. I can't believe that we never heard about this before. I can't believe that they never got busted. These jokers aren't that smart._

 _That's where it gets even worse. They did get busted. I'm in some real trouble here. I dug too deep and I'm starting to feel the heat. I haven't been able to prove it yet, but I think one of the bungled Narcotics busts got a cop killed last year. The shit is really hitting the fan now, as your boyfriend would say._

 _I want to talk to you about this in person. Maybe I'm wrong, but the evidence speaks for itself. I'm breaking rule number one. I'm taking this entire file home and I'm locking it in my safe there. I made a copy of this letter and I mailed it. You're going to think I'm nuts when you get it, but I'm pretty sure that I am being followed. If something happens to me, get the file. I have everything that I think you need to blow a full audit wide open, and you are the only one that can do it; even if you have gone over to the dark side._

 _With any luck, we'll be able to do this together. If not, do me a favor. Nail these sons of bitches to the wall._

 _~Matthew_

Sharon let Andy take the letter when she was finished reading it. She turned away from him and faced the windows that looked out into the Elliots' backyard. She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth and closed her eyes. The Sergeant had stumbled on to something quite by accident and neither his instincts, nor his sense of duty, had allowed him to ignore it. Now it looked like they had at least two dead police officers and several others that were culpable in the crimes. She was concerned enough by that, but also bothered by the fact that Matthew alluded to the idea that these officers had already been caught doing these things. Her stomach was hurting. It clenched painfully. That meant that someone inside Professional Standards was involved. It wasn't only someone on the force that was responsible for Sergeant Elliot's murder, but someone that he had worked with every day, someone that he, quite possibly, saw or spoke to was behind it as well.

Yes, Sharon thought. Matthew was right. The shit was definitely hitting the fan now. She turned again when she heard Andy curse. He was looking at her, eyes dark and burning with the same anger and determination that she felt. "That letter is dated two days ago," she said. "This means that the copy he spoke of is probably in my mailbox right now, or in the mail that Rusty picked up yesterday that I haven't looked at." Sharon shook her head; it was unimportant and could not change the events as they had unfolded. She would not have received the letter in time to save the Sergeant's life. "Matthew knew that he had something big."

"And he knew that he couldn't trust just anyone with it." Andy folded the letter and carefully placed it back in its envelope. He shook his head. The copies and notes that were in the file were making sense now. They were exerts from other case files, evidence logs and financial records. There were some names that were sticking out, and that was making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Andy ground his teeth together. "What do you want to do, Sharon?"

Her gaze dropped slowly to the documents on the desk. She rubbed her lips together while she thought through their next steps. "We take it in. We go through it," she said quietly. "We figure out what he had and where he was with it. I am going to finish what the Sergeant started."

"Not alone." Andy shifted where he stood. The muscles in his upper back tensed. "Once we figure out all this," he waved a hand at the stack of papers, "we're gonna have to take it to the Chief. It needs to be solid before we do that, and you're going to need help. You can't break open an entire division on your own."

Her brow arched. "I have done it before." She understood where he was going with this, however. Sharon shook her head at him. "Andy, we are talking about investigating three different divisions, at least. There are several officers involved, and we do not know who inside Professional Standards was helping them. For that reason alone I will need to take this to the Chief just as soon as we are back in the office."

"We don't know yet," he said, "but we will. That is exactly why we do this inside of Major Crimes. There is no one there that is on the take…"

"I know that!" She walked over to the desk and began sliding the documents back into the folder. "That is nowhere near being an issue. We are talking about investigating other officers. Andy, you do not know what that does to your career. It can make you a pariah with the very people that you need to have watching your back."

He felt like rolling his eyes at her. Instead Andy reached over and laid his hand on the papers, stopping her. "I know that you know that," he said more calmly. "That is not the point that I am making. As far as I am concerned we aren't talking about investigating cops. They are criminals now, Sharon, and no better than the guys on the street that they've been taking money from and letting off the hook."

Her lips turned up in a small, but sad smile. "There are people," she said thickly, "that will say that I have been a bad influence on you, Lieutenant." Sharon laid one of her hands over his and wrapped her fingers tightly around it. The evidence lay beneath their joined hands as she shook her head at him. "The rest of our division may not agree with you." Officers were always willing to talk about jail time when it came to the criminals that walked the street, but when they learned that those criminals were the officers that they stood beside every day, those conversations became a lot harder.

Andy shrugged at her. "Then we ask them," he said easily. "This isn't the same as Gabriel running off at the mouth to his girlfriend, but they know what having one bad apple in a bunch can do to a division; they know what it can do to the department. They're gonna surprise you." Andy straightened and pulled his hand back. He picked up the folder and held it open so that she could place the documents back inside with more ease. "Besides, got news for you Captain. You ain't FID anymore. You belong to us now. You tellin' me that five years hasn't taught you that we're real good at doing the heavy lifting?"

"Hm." Sharon wanted to believe him, and there was a part of her that did. She knew her people and she knew that she could trust them to have her back on this, but she had also been on the other side just long enough to realize that it might be hard for them. She did not want to put them in the position to have to be known for taking down members of their own department. It was not an easy job to do. Even when it was necessary, it wasn't always understood. "Heavy lifting, yes." Sharon arched a brow at him. "It's the moving vehicles that give me cause for concern."

"God almighty!" Andy looked away. He shook his head at her. "You are never letting that one go, are you?"

"Nope." The word was carefully enunciated and punctuated with a knowing look. For as long as she was able, she would make sure that he never did anything that reckless again. She had come too close to losing him. "Let's take all of this back to the murder room. We will talk to the rest of the team, and go from there."

"Yes ma'am." Andy nodded. "For the record, you're the one dating the lunatic that jumped onto the moving vehicle. What does that say about you?"

"I like the hard cases." She met his gaze again, but neither of them was feeling the levity of their words. It gave them something to hold on to, though, to stay afloat with the darkness rising around their ankles. It was something to remind them why they kept fighting and moving forward. There was always light in the darkness, even when they could not feel its warmth.

 **MCMCMCMCMCMC**

They took the file and all of its contents back to the Murder Room and placed them in Sharon's office. The rest of the team had only just started to filter back in from the break that the Captain ordered them to. Only Lieutenant Tao and Detective Sykes were at their desks when they arrived. They had to wait for Provenza to come back, but he strolled back into the Murder Room not too long after they returned.

Through the open blinds in Sharon's office Andy caught his attention and waved him over. Provenza was scowling at the both of them as he stepped inside. His scowl only deepened when Flynn closed the blinds and made sure that the door was secure behind him. "Okay," he began, "you have my attention, but just for the record…" Provenza pointed a finger at the Captain and shook it at her. "Changing clothes might be a nice cover, but you can't fool me. You didn't rest at all did you?" He shot a displeased look at his partner before she could answer. "I left you in charge of her."

"No one is in charge of her," Andy deadpanned. He rolled his eyes and walked around to stand behind the Captain's desk beside her. With his arms folded across his chest he perched on the edge of the credenza so that he was nearby, but not hovering at her shoulder.

"Truer words," Provenza muttered. He looked between the two of them and huffed a sigh. "Okay, what is the big secret?"

Sharon chose to ignore their banter, as she so often did. She placed her hand atop the thick file folder and got straight to the point instead. "Lisa Elliot found this inside the safe at her home this morning."

"Sergeant Elliot stumbled into some pretty screwed up crap," Andy explained. "He thought that someone was following him around, and he never struck me as the paranoid type, so it had to be legit. He left a note for Sharon and mailed another one to her place." They hadn't been back to the Condo yet, so they didn't know if it was there or not. Sharon had spoken to Rusty, however, and asked him to check the mail when he got home. She wanted him to bring anything that was in the box or on her desk and addressed to her straight to the murder room. At this point, if it had gone through the mail, fingerprints on the envelope wouldn't exactly matter.

"According to the Sergeant," Sharon continued, while the Lieutenant processed what they had told him so far, "He uncovered some evidence that implicates the members of at least three divisions in illegal activities. We think that some of those activities could have resulted in the death of a police officer last year."

"Whoever was following him around, killed him to shut him up," Andy pointed out. "We don't know who yet, but Elliot thought that he had enough to open a full investigation."

Provenza looked between the pair of them. There was more that he was not being told. His eyes narrowed as he studied them. "So we figure out who killed the Sergeant," he said plainly, "then we turn the rest over to Internal Affairs. That's what they are there for, isn't it?" Provenza straightened. His eyes bulged with sudden incredulity. "You're not suggesting that we turn the murder over to them are you?"

"Of course not, Lieutenant." Sharon lowered her gaze to the file for a moment. "We are not suggesting that we turn any of the investigation over. In his final missive Sergeant Elliot indicated that one or more of the officers involved in the illegal activities that he was uncovering could be from Professional Standards." Her gaze lifted again and she stared back at the Lieutenant. "We cannot be certain who that is or how deeply that involvement goes."

"I don't think that we should turn any of it over," Andy shrugged at his partner. "Right now, all of that is part of the murder investigation. I think we should keep it right here. Look," he stood up and moved closer to the desk. "No one likes Internal Affairs. No one wants them circling around like vultures. That's not to say," he added, waving a hand in the air, "that they are not occasionally necessary." He turned and cast a long look at the Captain. " _Occasionally_ ," he repeated, using the same inflection on the word that she had once used on him.

Sharon returned his look with a bland one of her own. "But they are necessary," she shot back. She turned her gaze back to the Lieutenant on the other side of her desk. "This is quickly becoming a complicated situation," she continued, "I can understand that the idea of investigating another police officer is a difficult one to accept. Unfortunately, in my experience, it is a necessary evil." Sharon folded her arms across her chest. "If we proceed as a unit, there may be backlash from other divisions."

"So?" Provenza snorted at her. "Captain, I have not gotten all the way here," he pointed at the floor in front of him, as if that were the proverbial spot that his long career in the LAPD had brought him to, "by making everyone in the department like me. If that was what I was worried about I would have quit a long time ago." He shook his head and took a moment to study the thick folder on her desk. Elliot had obviously done a lot of work if the thing was almost overflowing. The Sergeant was pretty damned thorough as he recalled. "You can stand there and practice your little speech about the necessary evil of Internal Affairs all you want to, but I've heard it all before. I've seen my fair share of rotten grapes. You don't have to tell me what can go on around here. That doesn't mean that I have to like all of the red tape and rules that can tie our hands and make our jobs that much harder to do."

"Yes, of that I am aware," Sharon replied. The two of them had tangled on that subject more than once over the years. Her lips pursed while the two of them stared at one another. "We see evil in the world every day," she said. "We just like to believe, and with good reason, that it remains outside of our own walls. Our badges are shields," she agreed, "but we have them as a means of protecting the public, not as something to hide our own misdeeds behind. It is not easy to investigate our own, Lieutenant, not from a fear of being disliked, but because it is always harder to look inside of our own houses and find the faults than it is to find them outside of it."

"We are not Internal Affairs," Provenza reminded her. "Doesn't mean we aren't going to do our jobs the same way that we always do. If anyone out there," He waved a hand toward the Murder Room, "is uncomfortable with any part of this, they can sit it out and good riddance to them." He doubted that would happen. He could not think of a single member of their team that would not stand up for what was right. If members of their department had crossed the line, resulting in not one, but two murders, and any number of convictions that could be overturned, he knew that he was not alone in wanting those officers prosecuted. While the Captain had not said it, he knew that she was very aware of the fact that any death that occurred during the commission of a felony was a murder, and he had to believe that they were talking about several felonies given the gravity of the situation.

Without waiting for any further discussion on the matter Andy moved around the office to open the door. He called the others in and waited as each of the filed into the room. With the entire team assembled, including Buzz, there was barely any standing room left. Andy shut the door behind them and stood in front of it. "We've got a lead."

Provenza turned where he stood and quickly filled the others in. He kept it short and to the point. Flynn cut in occasionally, and told them which divisions were involved. When they were finished, the elder Lieutenant pointed at Julio. "You take the stuff from Narcotics. Tao and I will pull the files from Robbery Homicide. Amy and the Captain can look into the information that the Sergeant put together on Professional Standards." He paused for a moment. "Anyone got a problem with that?"

He was not so much giving them a choice as he was telling them exactly what they were going to do. Sharon let her gaze move over each of her officers as they thought it through. Somehow she was not surprised when it was Julio that answered first. He looked at her before his attention moved back to the Lieutenant. He shrugged. "You know, when you beat the crap out of another person because you're pissed off, having a badge doesn't make you special. You're still an asshole. I can take Narcotics."

Tao looked at the floor for a moment. He rocked back on his heels before shaking his head. "Julio," he spoke slowly. His gaze lifted and he looked toward the ceiling above them. "No one thought you were an asshole."

Sanchez snorted. He jerked his thumb toward Flynn standing behind them. "He did."

As one everyone looked at him. Andy shrugged at them. "You know, asshole is such a strong word…"

"Okay, alright," Provenza waved his hands at them before they could get too carried away. "The Captain seems to be under the very mistaken idea that someone here might have a problem with masquerading as Internal Affairs for the duration of this investigation."

Amy and Buzz looked at one another, but it was the Detective who responded. She clasped her hands in front of her and tilted her head at the Lieutenant. "Well, sir, that _Captain Raydor and her crazy ideas_."

Provenza pointed a finger at her. "That's my girl!" He waved both of his hands at them all in a shooing motion. "Everyone out of here. This office is hardly big enough for the two of us," he said, nodding his head toward the Captain, "much less all of you. Let's go, back to work. Buzz, take this and get it up on the board. Amy help him. Anything you find that has to do with Professional Standards, bring it back to the Captain." Provenza reached for the folder and passed it over to him. He waited for Flynn to let everyone out of the office again before he turned back to the Captain. "See?" He held his arms out. "Nothing to it."

"Apparently not." Sharon let her arms drop to her sides. "Very well then, Lieutenant, I will trust that you have everything well in hand. I need to bring the Chief up to speed on what's happened. Rusty may drop by soon. I asked him to bring the mail. We will need to enter the second letter from Sergeant Elliot into evidence."

"I'll keep an eye out for him," Andy told her. "I'm going to go and help Amy and Buzz sort through the stuff that Elliot collected. It will go faster since I've already seen most of it."

"Thank you, Andy." Sharon spared a smile as he left them.

"You've been spending too much time with him." Provenza shook his finger at her as he made to follow. "He's been a bad influence on you. You're going to end up turning into a cynic like the rest of us."

"Ah!" Sharon rocked back on her heels. "Andy isn't the cynic, Lieutenant. He is a realist. You are the only cynic here, and I think that I am in very little danger of spending too much time with you," she quipped.

"Why not?" He made a face at her. "I still have plenty to teach you about homicides."

"I look forward to that, but for the moment, it seems that I have plenty to teach _you_ about Internal Affairs." Sharon moved around her desk to join him at the door. "I think that you are all about to get a crash course in it."

"How hard can it be?" Provenza asked. He waved a hand at her. "Blah, blah, blah, rules, blah, blah, red tape, yadda-yadda, Flynn go to Anger Management. Believe me, Captain, I am already an expert. Go talk to the Chief. We've got this under control."

"Yes," she agreed, "I think that you do." Sharon stood for a moment, watching them. There was no hesitation as they dug into the evidence that Sergeant Elliot had collected. She found that she wasn't surprised by that fact. Deep down she had already known that this was exactly what they would do, and the small part of her that thought they might once again see her as an outsider was completely silenced. The Lieutenant was correct, she had learned a lot from him, but she thought that just maybe they had learned something from her too. It seemed that they had all been good for each other. Sharon nodded to herself and moved away from them. As she started down the corridor a heavy feeling that had nothing at all to do with her team settled inside her stomach. It was time to begin rattling the hornet's nest, and she worried that the wrong people might get stung.

 **-TBC-**


	8. Chapter 8

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

From the moment that Sharon finished briefing him, Assistant Chief Taylor wanted in on the investigation. It was not necessarily a matter of mistrust in his elite squad of detectives' ability to put their investigation to rest, but the possibility of a scandal that prompted his involvement. He agreed with the decision to keep the investigation, in its entirety, where it was. Major Crimes would need to find those responsible for the murder of Sergeant Matthew Elliot, as well as open an investigation into the death of Officer Shawn Bertetto the previous year. Throughout all of this, they would be investigating the possibility of illegal activities taking place within the Narcotics, Robbery-Homicide, and Professional Standards divisions.

Extra white boards were pulled into the murder room as the team began laying out all of the notes and data collected by Sergeant Elliot. A board was dedicated to each division, and realizing that any request for case files from those divisions would raise suspicions too soon, Taylor had the files pulled from the department's archive library. There was also a concern about information leaking from within Major Crimes given all of the support staff that moved through the Murder Room each day; in an effort to delay inevitable leaks, the Murder Room was on lock down. Only those officers who usually provided support staffing were being granted access.

It had taken several hours to put everything into place and begin sorting through all of the information that they had. During that time, Rusty had dropped by with Sharon's mail and the copy of the letter from Sergeant Elliot was logged into evidence. There were any number of cases that could be involved when the entire work history of the officers that Elliot had named in his investigation notes were taken into account, and that created a task that appeared daunting at the onset. Detectives Lewis and Fiess had been with Narcotics for a couple of years, but prior to their transfers - which had happened many months apart - the two officers were with Robbery Homicide for several years. Lewis had transferred into that division more than a decade before. He had been in Patrol, waiting for an opening after passing his Detective's exam, and that opening had finally presented itself when Lieutenant Flynn left Robbery-Homicide for the then named Priority Homicide Division.

Fiess was a more recent addition. He made the move to Robbery-Homicide from Gang Intelligence a few years after his partner, Lewis. Both officers had cited opportunity for advancement in their declarations for transfer from RHD to Narcotics. Such transfers were not unheard of, and it was not unusual for partners to follow when they happened.

While Major Crimes might get the more emergent and high profile cases, Robbery-Homicide certainly worked its share. There were any number of cases to look at that Lewis and Fiess were responsible for closing. Then the team had to factor in their Narcotics cases. It was, in the simplest terms, a complete mess.

It became an even greater mess when the scope of their investigation was broadened to include Captain Garring of Robbery-Homicide. The Captain had come over to that division from Patrol when Taylor was promoted and began focusing on duties outside of his old division. Within a few years it was clear that Garring was running RHD while Taylor's ambitions lay completely elsewhere. He was far more involved with Major Crimes as he set his sights toward the office that he currently maintained. When Taylor officially transferred out of Robbery-Homicide and into a more administrative role as a liaison between Major Crimes and the media, as well as other divisions, Garring was the likely replacement.

Captain Garring had a few years to establish himself within Robbery-Homicide; his experience in Patrol had seemed to be a boon. He knew how the streets worked, because he worked a beat for so long. Now it appeared that all of that knowledge had another purpose. Thomas Garring knew how the streets worked, because he knew which people to contact to serve his purpose. He also had quite a history with Detective Lewis. As the team dug further into all three officers' histories, they quickly learned that Thomas Garring had been Detective John Lewis's training officer and later his supervisor. How they had swayed Fiess into their activities was still unknown, but there was no doubt of his involvement.

It was all beginning to give Russell Taylor quite the headache. He sat at one of the empty desks in the Murder Room, one that gave him a good view of all four murder boards. He sat forward in his seat and rubbed at his temples. There were days when he questioned whether or not it was time to retire, but then he reminded himself that he had three kids in college, and there were still professional goals that he would like to achieve.

"Okay," he said, and interrupted a very long explanation that Lieutenant Tao had been giving for what felt like an hour. He was sure it hadn't really been that long, but it sure felt like it. Taylor's hands were still gripping his head as he looked up at the boards. "Let's back up a little bit…" He heard a pair of groans come from his left. They belonged to the troublesome duo of Flynn and Provenza. Taylor let it go, in part because he didn't really have the energy to deal with them at the moment, but also because he could see their Captain shooting a glare in their direction from the corner of his eye. "We've got Garring with Lewis and Fiess, logging partial robbery recoveries into evidence. The goods were stolen, mostly from electronics stores and pawn shops, and when the suspects were found, they filed forms indicating that not all the items could be recovered." As he spoke he straightened a bit and waved a hand at the board dedicated to RHD and those activities. What he described was a common occurrence. Even when thieves were busted, they couldn't guarantee that everything would be recovered. This was why stores and homeowners were advised to have the appropriate insurance.

"That is correct," Tao stated. He moved nearer to the board and indicated a list of robberies, by case file number, that the pair of detectives had worked where such forms were filed. Despite their activities, none of them could say that Lewis and Fiess were not smart. They had not filed those forms on all their large recoveries; they seemed to have spread it out, a few cases a year, and those cases had varied in size. From the list on the board they were able to underline those that Sergeant Elliot had specifically looked into. "The Sergeant found evidence that after those forms were filed and their cases closed, the Detectives allowed the fencers who had the stolen goods to sell them. Afterward they were given a portion of the take for looking the other way."

"On top of that," Julio cut in, "they worked with the DDAs covering those cases to get their suspects lighter sentences on grounds that they were cooperative. Their guys pled guilty, went up for two to five years, depending on the size of the take, and then were back out on the street to keep going. Probably to hook them up with other fencers and suspects to keep their pockets lined."

"Then they made the move to Narcotics." Andy pushed off of the desk that he was leaning against. He walked over to the board that was filled in with notes regarding those cases. "It seems our pals Lewis and Fiess got a little greedy. They figured out that the kickback on drug busts would be a little higher. They were right. A couple of busts a year these knuckleheads were pocketing money on drugs that didn't make it into evidence. To make an idiotic situation even worse, Elliot turned over evidence that they blew surveillance on a couple of dealers, probably for money or contacts. We won't know for sure until we get their financial records, but one of those blown investigations involved a gang dealer by the name of Martinez. Apparently Fiess knew this guy. He had dealings with him when he was over in Gang Intel. Martinez went down last year, but he should have gone down before that, and would have if Lewis and Fiess had not blown their case against him. When Narcotics did finally move against Martinez, Officer Shawn Bertetto was killed. Elliot noted that he believed Martinez knew the department was coming for him. He was warned."

"Right." Taylor sat back in his chair. His tie was already loosened but he was thinking about taking it off completely. "That takes us back to Sergeant Elliot's big question. How did these two officers operate for so long without _anyone_ ever getting wind of it?" He waved a hand at the board again. "People talk. Suspects talk. They get arrested by someone else, and it's _hey buddy, cut me a deal like your pal did_ … Explain to me how that never happened?" As he asked the question, Taylor turned his chair and pinned Captain Raydor with his gaze.

She was leaning against the edge of Amy's desk, arms folded over her chest. "There were three Force Investigations between the two officers during the time frame that we are looking at. FID investigations focus on the precipitating event, be it a shooting, an altercation, or a complaint made during or after book-in. There would have been no reason during those situations to look further into the Detectives' case history. Not unless there was a history or concern raised at the number of Force reports being filed for that officer."

Andy raised his hand. "Or someone was trying to frame them for witness tampering." When Sharon rolled her eyes toward him in a long, bland look, he just shrugged at her. "It's worth mentioning, it does happen, and didn't you point out once that they, and their division CO might not have even known about it depending on the outcome?"

Sharon's lips pursed. She looked heavenward and took a cleansing breath. While her tongue swept across her teeth, she considered his question. He was never going to let that go. This was her payback for the remark about his little _dust up_ with the moving vehicle. "That is true, Lieutenant," she put extra emphasis on his rank. Sharon's head tilted and she arched a brow when she looked at him again. "However, not every Pitchess Motion that comes to Professional Standards is initiated by a frame attempt. The department fields hundreds of those a year. They are almost always baseless, but once they are filed, regardless of whether there appears to be any merit in the complaint, Professional Standards does have to pull the officer's jacket. For some, it is as simple as a report or two, perhaps a minor infraction or disciplinary event. Others," her eyes narrowed at him, "have files that are packed with allegations; boxes of report history, and disciplinary files that go as far back as their academy inductions." If he thought that she had forgotten about the incident with the Commandant's daughter, he was mistaken. Sharon watched his eyes narrow and mentally checked off a mark in the win column for herself. "In this case," her attention returned to the Assistant Chief, "there was some concern raised."

"A statement from a suspect during an arrest by another division raised a few red flags," Amy explained. She flipped through the notes that Sergeant Elliot had made after reviewing that case. "The suspect indicated that he had been let off the hook before by Detectives Lewis and Fiess if he would guarantee them better information on a bigger bust. The suspect was not registered as a confidential informant, and after he made a snide remark about cops wanting payouts, the arresting officers logged the incident with the Criminal Investigations section of Internal Affairs."

"CID pulled the suspect's arrest history," Provenza explained. "He was picked up a couple of times by Lewis and Fiess. When he was questioned again, the suspect recanted, said he was high and coming down, didn't know what he was talking about. Since there was evidence that substance abuse was involved, CID bumped the case up for a decision of formal review."

"No one within Professional Standards has the ability to continue or pull a case," Sharon explained. "If the investigating officers do not feel that further review is warranted, or if they want to conduct a deeper inquiry, approval has to be gained from a reporting officer."

"Okay," Taylor shook his head at her. "Cases like that always get a deeper inquiry. So what happened? Who in CID dropped the ball?"

"No one." Sharon pushed off the desk that she was leaning against. Her spine straightened. "Lieutenant Donaldson, who was in charge of CID at the time, was on maternity leave at the time the request was made. Her office passed the request further up, and that is where it stops." Sharon turned her back on them then and moved quietly away.

Provenza leaned forward where he sat behind his own desk. He pinned the Assistant Chief with a long look. "The case request was sent to Michaelson's office. There were two follow up requests made. Elliot found correspondence back to the investigating officer in CID stating that the issue was handled and to move on."

"Michaelson." Taylor looked around the room. He straightened in his chair. " _Commander_ Michaelson? The same man who single handedly restructured Professional Standards following the Rampart scandals, created the brief that gave way for the Force Investigation Division, and personally hand-picked and trained…"

"Me." Sharon shook her head. She paced the edge of the murder room with her arms folded tightly across her chest. "Myself and a few others were pulled in by the Commander. He was my training officer, and later my partner before his promotion to head of PSB. Sergeant Elliot's trail of evidence stops there. What we do not know is if the Commander was directly involved or if the involvement came from inside of his office."

"We are talking about investigating a long standing veteran of LAPD brass," Taylor reminded them. "Do you have any idea what this can mean?"

A humorless and almost cruel chuckle escaped Sharon before she could hold it back. "Do you?" She fixed the chief with a hard look. "Every single review motion that has gone through the Commander's office will have to be reviewed. Cases will have to be reopened. Convictions could be overturned. Lawsuits could be filed. Not to mention, of course, the hundreds of thousands of dollars in legal fees and man-hours this will cost the department in investigating all of the wrongdoing. I know _exactly_ what I am implying, Chief."

It wasn't just a mess. It was a nightmare.

Taylor stood up and walked around to stand in front of the white boards. His gaze moved over each one and finally lingered the longest on the one assigned to Professional Standards. He shook his head. If they pulled Michaelson in too soon and he was not involved, they could be tarnishing a career and opening themselves up to liability cases that could take years to disprove. On the other hand, if he was involved, and there were others in his department that were equally guilty, there was a chance that evidence could be dumped. They could miss their chance to shut down an entire operation in one complete swoop, and still open themselves up to further liability cases. Taylor placed a hand on his hip and turned. "Lewis and Fiess first," he told them. "We've got two dead police officers. Right now their involvement has them looking at Second Degree Murder without putting the gun in either of their hands. Let's get them in here, get them talking. Get Hobbs down here." He could sense in the stiffening that came from several members of the team that they knew exactly where he was going with his orders. Taylor held up a hand before they could protest. "We offer them a deal for all the names. They still go away for murder. We shut this down," He pointed a finger back at the boards. "We shut it down completely. We do it at one time." He pointed at the main Murder Board and Matthew Elliot's picture. "I want the bastards responsible for that. Then I want damage control."

Her people were looking at one another, more astonished than confused. "We close ranks around it," Sharon told them. "We mitigate the fallout as much as we can while still prosecuting those responsible. A complete audit will have to be performed; convictions and dismissals will have to be reviewed. We will close our case, but it will not stop here." Sharon shook her head, she suddenly felt very tired. This was just the sort of case that she had dreaded during her days with Professional Standards. When she was first presented with the Terrell Baylor lawsuit, Sharon tried very hard to not imagine this kind of fallout. It was the very thing that she had worked long hours to prevent for the majority of her career. Losing Sergeant Elliot as a result seemed unfathomable. She did not like the idea of offering Detectives Lewis and Fiess a deal anymore than the rest of her team, but if it put them behind bars for what remained of the rest of their lives, she would take it.

"I have to update the Chief." Taylor ran a hand over his face. "He may have questions," he told the Captain. "Stay close, I may call you over to join us."

"I will be here." Sharon allowed her gaze to drift back to her team. Her mind worked over the specifics of their next task while the Assistant Chief left them. "Lieutenant Provenza, take Detective Sanchez and pick up Detective Lewis. Mike and Amy, I would like for you to pick up Detective Fiess." She turned to find Andy with her gaze, but he was already at his desk and reaching for his phone.

"I'm calling Hobbs," Flynn said. "I'll fill her in. While we're waiting to gather everyone up, I'll take a couple of uniforms down and clean out Elliot's locker. If he stashed evidence at home, maybe he stashed something in his locker too." Andy shrugged at her. It wasn't all that probable, but it didn't hurt to check, just to make sure that they had everything.

"Thank you Lieutenant. Buzz, go with him; if there is evidence in the Sergeant's locker, I want it documented. In the meantime, I will continue looking through the data that the Sergeant gathered on his colleagues in PSB. I want to be certain that we have not overlooked anything." Sharon gathered the file with the notes from Amy's desk and waited for her people to begin disbursing before she stepped into her office.

The file in her hand landed against her desk with a sharp thump. Sharon let her shoulders slump and her head hang. She was currently replaying every conversation that she ever had with the man who was her friend and mentor. She was trying to determine if he could really be responsible for the circumstances surrounding them all. Could he really be involved in the activities that had caused at least two deaths? He had known Matthew Elliot as long as she had. He watched him move up through the ranks of FID under her tutelage. The Commander had been fond of Matthew, she was sure. How could he be involved now? It seemed impossible and yet the evidence was leading them in just that direction.

How deeply did it go? Who else had she once stood beside, worked with, trained with, and commiserated with was involved in these illegal activities. At the very least careers would be ending, but there was going to be jail time involved too, and with the deaths they were looking at considerable sentences.

A hand on her shoulder made her startle. Sharon looked back and found Andy standing behind her. She offered him a tired smile. "That was quick."

"Hobbs is in a meeting," Andy replied. "She will call back. I'm going to head on down and take care of that locker." His brows drew together in a deep frown. "Okay?"

"No." She would be honest with him. There was no point in lying. Sharon shook her head at him. They could talk about it later. They both had work to do at present. "Go ahead. I will wait for Andrea to call back. I can bring her up to speed."

He studied her for a moment. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she was sure, but Andy knew that she would be. Right now she would want to keep working. If she could keep her mind from wandering, she would be better for it, at least until they could discuss it. "I'll be back in a few minutes. I'll make some coffee before I go. You look like you could use some."

"God no." The corners of her mouth twitched toward a more genuine smile. Sharon waved him toward the door. "Get out of here, Lieutenant. Stay away from the coffee."

He tossed his hands up at her as he turned. "Don't say I never offered."

"I will try to repress it, actually." Sharon took a breath as he left, and found that she was able to let it out a lot more easily. She turned her attention back to the file on her desk and stared at it. After a moment she nodded. "Okay," she said to herself. "Let's see how much worse this can get."

 **-TBC-**


	9. Chapter 9

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

They rode the elevator in silence. It was not until they were in the Lieutenant's car and headed across downtown to the complex where Professional Standards was housed that either Flynn or Buzz bothered to speak. It was the man in the passenger seat that finally voiced his concerns. He slanted a carefully curious look at the Lieutenant before his eyes narrowed speculatively. "How is she doing?"

Some part of him expected the question. He knew that the team was wondering about it, and it was only himself or maybe Provenza that would bother cornering the Captain for an answer. Although, it wasn't as if either of them really had to ask her either; they knew her well enough. Andy didn't miss a beat and his eyes never left the road, although they squinted behind his dark shades. "The Captain is fine." His hands shifted and his right slid down to hold the bottom of the steering wheel. Andy could feel Buzz still staring at him. His answer, while still true in some small sense, was not being fully accepted. Andy sighed. He slanted a look out of the corner of his eye and found the younger man's blue gaze unwavering. "She's dealing," he amended. "The case was already hard enough. Nobody thought she'd be doing this kind of work again, and on top of that, one of our suspects is her mentor. It's rough. She'll be okay."

Buzz allowed his gaze to turn back to the city streets in front of them. He sat silent for a moment while he considered that. There was something about this case that had been bugging him from the start. "If the Sergeant thought that he was on to something this big," he voiced finally, "why wouldn't he involve the Captain sooner? He obviously trusted her enough. Why did he wait?"

"Maybe he didn't want to believe it?" Andy shrugged. "Who the hell knows, Buzz. I wondered about that too. The thing is, he probably knew what the scope of all of this was going to be. On top of that, we're not just talking about a couple of dirty cops. Yeah, okay, we've got that with Lewis and Fiess, and Garring is right in the middle of all of it. Finding out that Michaelson might be involved had to be a hell of a blow. Elliot knew what that was going to do to Professional Standards, and he had to know what it would mean for Sharon too. We're not just talking about someone she worked for. Michaelson was her mentor. He brought her up." Andy shook his head. He continued to drive, but gestured as he maneuvered the car through downtown traffic. "A few years ago when the rumors that Michaelson might be retiring first started going around, no one had to question who was going to be taking his place. We all knew it was going to be Raydor. On one hand, the Dragon Lady was going to be in charge of the guys that made our jobs hell, but on the other, it meant we wouldn't have her in our faces in the field as much. Even with it not being such a bad thing for all of us, it still wasn't a new idea. We'd have been shocked if it wasn't the Captain. But about the time that we were expecting her to get promoted and slide into Michaelson's office, she got the lateral transfer to Major Crimes instead. Turns out his holiness thought she was more valuable keeping an eye on all of us instead of keeping an eye on _everyone_." The Lieutenant shrugged. "That might have worked out for all of us, and Sharon too, in a lot of ways… but it took her out of the loop. Elliot had to wonder if handing any of his case over to Sharon was going to do more damage than good. He knew her as well as we do, but you gotta ask yourself, if you were in Elliot's shoes, what would you do? Ask your mentor to investigate her mentor, or try to figure out as much of it on your own as you can first? In the end, he knew he had to bring her into it. He just ran out of time."

That was something that Buzz could understand. It couldn't have been an easy decision to make. He had not really thought much about the fact that the Captain might have had other plans for her career before she came to them. They all seemed to think of things in terms of _then and now_ , one day she was FID and the next she belonged to them. Well, perhaps it hadn't gone down quite that easily. There had been a transition period and one that they all had to work through. The fact remained that most of them didn't really think of her career before in terms of what it might have been. His eyes squinted when the Lieutenant took a turn and the afternoon sun glared through the front windshield, bright even against the shades covering his eyes. His lips pursed and he shook his head. "Whoever killed Sergeant Elliot knew his routine. The suspect knew that he would go to the gym before going home; knew where it was, and…"

"Where the cameras on that street were located." They stopped at a red light and Andy swept a hand over his face. "Yeah, Buzz, I know. It could be that Lewis or Fiess knew that Elliot was on to them and were watching him, like he thought. Or someone in PSB got wind of what he was digging in to. Worse still, one of those two yahoos told their contact in PSB and that is who we're looking for." He sighed again. "Let's just scope out the Sergeant's locker, find the nothing that is there, and get back to the Murder Room." He wanted to be there when they brought Lewis and Fiess in for questioning. Andy didn't want to miss a second of that; especially with the chance that it could go south for Michaelson.

They made the rest of the trip in silence. They were only crossing downtown, but in afternoon traffic it took the better part of an hour. When they arrived, the Lieutenant led the way inside. Several years had passed since the last time that Andy stepped foot inside this building. Any other day, on any other occasion, he might have smiled at those memories. It was a rather humorous story, one among several like it, but this one stuck out as his favorite. Andy made a mental note to tell Buzz about it sometime since it was a little before he had come over to work for Priority Homicide.

On that particular trip to PSB he had been in quite a fit of temper. He had gotten a write-up on a tussle that he had gotten into with a suspect along with a recommendation that he spend three weeks in Anger Management classes. Andy didn't let his mind drift over the memories for more than just a second, but it was long enough for him to recall having gone nose to nose with the officer handling his case. It was the sort of argument that legends were made of, particularly given the fact that he found out about three seconds after calling her a _play-doh puppe_ t for the senior brass that she had just been promoted to Captain. Andy had left PSB with five weeks of Anger Management instead of the originally recommended three. A corner of his mouth twitched, but the smile did not appear. Sharon was mean when she was riled. He would keep that in mind.

The Lieutenant pushed the memories aside as they made their way to the third floor gym and locker area. Sergeant Davis met them outside the entrance to the locker room with an empty box. Andy arched a brow at the Sergeant as he approached.

"The Captain called a few minutes ago," Davis explained. "She knew that you'd need to know which locker was Matt's. I thought…" He held up the box and shrugged. "You know, after you look through everything, we could box up what you don't need for Lisa and the kids."

Andy eyed the younger officer for a long moment. They had no way of knowing who in PSB was involved in the cover up with the guys from Robbery-Homicide and Narcotics. Andy frowned as he studied him. A couple of minutes would have given him enough time to get down there to meet them, but hardly enough time to go through the locker himself if that was his plan. Sharon would have known that. Andy finally nodded and gestured toward the door behind the Sergeant. "Yeah," he said, "we can do that. Come on, we'll try to make it quick."

Buzz lifted his camera and trailed behind them as they entered the locker room. Davis led them through a maze of lockers, moving through the rows with ease and familiarity. Along the back wall he finally came to a stop. He continued to hold the box in his hands and nodded to third locker from the end. "Matt's was 402."

Andy moved alongside it and was careful to not block the camera. He tugged on a pair of sterile, black, latex gloves while his eyes moved over the metal structure. His brows drew together as his gaze traced the seams of the door. Scratch marks near the lock had his eyes squinting. "Hey Buzz, get a close up of this." He waited for Buzz to take a step closer and heard the familiar click and whir of the lens adjusting itself for a close up. The Lieutenant pointed at the markings near the lock. He waited for Buzz to get several moments of good footage before he placed his hand against the door. Pressure made it give way. It swung outward. "It looks like someone forced the lock and busted the latch in the process."

Davis moved in closer and stared at the inside of the locker. Most of what he expected to find was there, but in complete disarray. A shaving kit and other toiletries were no longer on the single shelf at the top of the locker. Instead they were strewn inside with a now empty duffel and the change of clothes that were once inside it.

The locker had been gone through, and with little care to the contents inside. Andy held out a hand and ushered Davis further aside. "Buzz get in here. Film it all." He pulled out his phone as he stepped back. "Don't touch anything. We'll have to get SID down here to print the whole damned thing." He pointed a finger at Davis. "Don't go anywhere." The other man straightened and seemed to bristle at his tone. Flynn didn't care. They didn't know who they could trust, if anyone, and at this point, almost anyone could be a suspect. One thing he did know, there was going to be nothing at all quick about this visit to PSB.

 **MCMCMCMCMCMC**

When Taylor returned to the Murder Room after his briefing with the Chief it was to find most of the division returned and the two officers they had picked up being held in separate interview rooms. The assistant chief held his arms out as he moved to the center of the room. "What is the hold up? Why aren't we questioning these guys?"

The Captain was seated at the juncture between Amy and Julio's desks. She did not bother looking up from the files that were laid out between them. The three of them were comparing case logs from PSB to the case history filed by their suspects. "We are waiting for Lieutenant Flynn to return with Buzz," Sharon explained. "I sent them to Professional Standards to investigate whether or not Sergeant Elliot stored any further evidence in his personal property." She looked up finally and gazed at the chief over the rims of her glasses. "While they were there, they discovered that the Sergeant's locker was broken into and that his personal items had been disturbed. The Lieutenant requested SID to join him and is in the process of having the locker and everything inside of it printed. Buzz is filming the process. In the meantime," Sharon held up a hand and gestured toward Lieutenant Tao, "we are having the security footage from the hall outside of the locker room sent over."

Tao turned in his chair and pushed his glasses up onto his head. "We will be scanning the footage backward from the time that it was pulled. The good news is, each of the security systems set up at LAPD precincts and annex facilities are linked to a centralized system that is housed in this building. Access is limited, but the system itself is firewalled in such a way that if a user were to attempt to-"

Taylor held up a hand. "I get it." He looked at the Captain again. "So we haven't questioned either of the two officers and we are waiting."

"That is correct." Sharon tilted her head at him. "We can hold them for seventy-two hours without charging them, which should give us plenty of time finish investigating the Sergeant's locker, which is now part of our crime scene and review the download from the security cameras. While we are here doing that our suspects are left to sit and wonder exactly how much information we have. When we do finally begin our questioning we will, with any luck, have far more answers than we currently possess."

Lieutenant Provenza sat forward in his chair and leaned against his desk. He shot a triumphant looking smirk in the Assistant Chief's direction. "Anything else that you would like to know, or can we get back to work now? I assume that you are dropping by to tell us that his holiness would like for us to wrap this up quickly." He made a big show of checking his watch. "Our time is the Department's money, you know." He was aware of the Captain shooting a warning look in his direction but ignored it. They had two dead cops, any number of others implicated and the possibility of dozens of convictions being overturned in the near future; he was not in the mood to be told to _hurry up_. If ever there was a case in which they needed to make sure that they were doing everything by the book, this was it.

Taylor turned and fixed the Lieutenant with a bland look of his own. "As a matter of fact that is exactly what the Chief, and myself, would like for you to do." He held up a finger before the older man could respond, "not because of the many hours of overtime that I am sure will be involved with the remainder of this case - all of which has already been approved, but because we are facing a critical situation of having to report this issue to the Mayor and the state. We need to be armed with as much information as possible before we begin making those calls, but there is a small window of opportunity that allows us to discover our current circumstances and report it to the appropriate parties. We need to make sure that we are precisely..."

Sharon exchanged a look with Julio as the chief continued speaking. _"...following the law_ ," the detective mouthed in time with Taylor's speech. It was something that they had all heard before and from someone else. The detective's dark eyes were sparkling as he stared back at her. When her brow arched, but the corners of her mouth twitched, he just shrugged. Sharon had to look away from him to keep from smiling out right and found the chief staring at them. They both sobered quickly and stared back at him, their expressions now impassive.

"Chief I can assure you that we are all aware of the time constraints that we are facing, we are also fully cognizant of the seriousness of this situation. We are going to take this case step by step and when we do provide those answers to the appropriate parties, there will be no doubt that we have fully closed every loop." She sat back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. "When we begin questioning the detectives I will make sure that you are notified so that you can be present. Until then we are doing everything that we can to maintain the integrity of this case while closing it as quickly as possible."

When her head tilted in such a way as to ask him if there would be anything else, Taylor felt like rolling his eyes. "Thank you, Captain. That is all that I am trying to confirm." He began to turn but stopped. He pointed a finger at her and then waved it at the others. "I don't know who has been the worse influence here. You or them."

"Us." Provenza smirked at him. "Definitely us."

"Definitely," Tao replied, attention already back on his computer, he didn't bother to turn around again."

"It took a few years," Julio was back to making notes on a legal pad. Since the Captain had effectively dismissed the Chief, he saw no reason to not get back to work. "But we finally got her trained."

Sharon waited for Taylor to leave, which he did without further delay, and managing to look just a tad disturbed. She slanted a look at Julio as she leaned forward again to dive back in to the files that they were reviewing. "Trained?"

"Oh yeah." He tapped the end of his pen against his notepad and glanced at her. "He can't complain about it now. He gave you to us. He should have been more careful."

She had to fight the urge to both laugh and roll her eyes. Instead she allowed a small smile and pushed the file they were previously working on back toward him. "Let's continue, Detective."

"Yes ma'am." Julio smirked, but turned his attention back to the case logs.

They did not manage to get much farther before Hobbs arrived. Sharon had managed to speak to her earlier and gave her a brief synopsis of their case. Now that she was able to join them, the Captain waved her into her office and had Lieutenant Provenza join them. While the DDA was being brought up to speed, Flynn returned with Buzz. The box that Sergeant Davis had greeted them with was now filled with contents from Sergeant Elliot's locker, only now it had been bagged, tagged, and printed. Andy handed the box off to Sykes and stepped over to knock quietly on the Captain's door. He pushed it open at her summons and poked his head inside.

"SID has the prints," he reported. "They're running them through our system first. If there was anything in the locker, it was cleared out before we got there."

Sharon nodded slowly. "Mike is still working on the security camera footage. Get Buzz to help him. I want to review it before we question Detectives Lewis and Fiess."

"We need to be very careful in how we approach these interviews," Hobbs stated. "As of now, neither of these two officers have asked for an attorney or their Union reps. The moment they do that, we are done. It will become even more difficult to offer them a deal. I would like to have all the information that we can get before we approach either of them."

"I agree." Sharon folded her arms across her chest. "Right now we have them separated with uniformed officers on the doors to the rooms that they are occupying, but neither man has made any requests..." Her lips pursed and she gave a small shrug. "Of course, none of my detectives have been by to see if they need anything either... and while Buzz was busy elsewhere, we haven't been able to monitor the cameras in those rooms as carefully as we normally would."

Andrea arched a brow at her. "Well, Captain, this case has a lot of moving parts. I am sure that we all understand that your team is stretched very thin."

"It has been practically unbearable," Provenza deadpanned.

"With nowhere to go but down from here," Sharon reminded him. "We should be able to start questioning the detectives very soon. Andrea, we will circle back with you in an hour. Will that give you enough time to review the notes we currently have?"

"It will have to," The DDA replied. "I will bring my boss up to speed and then I can dig in here. Once I see what we have, we can discuss deals." Like the others she wasn't keen on the idea, but if it secured their case, she was willing to make the offer.

"Then we will reconvene in an hour," the Captain stated. "Lieutenant," she turned her gaze on Provenza, "see if you can help inspire Lieutenant Tao to work faster."

"Ah." He grinned. "Shorter explanations. That I can most definitely do."

"Try to not enjoy it so much this time, hm?" she cautioned.

The Lieutenant feigned a look of pure innocence. "Captain, would I ever do something like that?"

"Many times, and in many ways," Andy drawled. "Come on, I'll help."

Provenza snorted. "He's the one that will enjoy it…"

Andrea shook her head as the two Lieutenants left them. "If you need more time, just let me know." She turned on her heel to follow.

Once she was alone in her office Sharon gazed through the open blinds into the Murder Room. She lingered there for just a moment while she watched the flurry of activity on the other side of the glass walls. She counted off only a few seconds while her mind pieced together what they knew and what still remained in front of them. Finally she moved to join them, a sigh at her lips. Until their case was closed there would be no rest for the wicked… or the righteous.

 **-TBC-**


	10. Chapter 10

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

 **A/N:** I know, it has been a while. Real life has been especially wonderful. Hopefully this extra long chapter will make up for it...

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

Stunned silence settled over the Murder Room as the security footage from the PSB building finished playing. Tao and Buzz had finished loading the footage only a few minutes before. They located the moment that their own people had arrived and moved the footage back from there. Sergeant Davis, they learned quickly, had told the truth. He arrived just minutes before Lieutenant Flynn and Buzz joined him, and did not enter the locker room until they were present. There was a stretch of mostly nothing prior to that moment. They captured a few people moving through the hall, but no one that stopped or entered the locker room. That was until they reached the point when a familiar face exited.

He came out carrying a folded sheaf of papers, and as they moved further backward with the video, they realized that he entered carrying nothing at all. For the sake of accuracy they continued watching the footage, but the only other traffic that the locker room saw that day was a group of officers entering and leaving early that morning. They had, it seemed, found another suspect, and at the very least, the one responsible for breaking in to Sergeant Elliot's locker. They could only guess at what he had removed. One thing they did know, however, Sergeant Staples had a lot to answer for.

In the moments that followed there was little movement in the murder room. The detectives looked at one another. They had known that someone in Professional Standards was at fault, but they had not even begun to fully suspect any one person. Now they knew. Slowly they began to look at one another, each silently questioning if they had truly just witnessed the same thing.

Before any of them could fully react Captain Raydor turned on her heel and began striding away from the murder room. Andy shared a look with his partner. They both had the same thought. _Oh crap_. They had rarely had occasion to witness an event that put Sharon into such a state of supreme anger that a chill, almost literally, settled over the room. She was not a woman that yelled, stomped, or slammed doors. On the contrary, she became incredibly quiet, and her temper, just as everything else about her, was deliberately delivered so that every second of her rage could be felt and processed by the person on the receiving end. They both moved at the same time. Flynn's longer stride carried him after the Captain much more quickly. He caught up to her as she swept into the first interview room.

Detective Lewis looked up as the Captain entered. He straightened in his seat as the Captain came toward him, flanked by two detectives. When she leaned over the table his brows rose. "Is someone—"

"Quiet." Sharon's palms were flat against the table. "The time for discussion has passed, Detective. You've had ample opportunity to tell us everything that we need to know while you have been sitting here." She leaned down just slightly and allowed her gaze to bore into the Detective's. "What is going to happen now," she stated plainly, "is that you are going to contact an attorney, along with your Union representative and explain to them that the District Attorney's office is filing charges against you for two counts of murder."

Lewis's eyes widened. "What…I—"

He didn't have the chance to finish. Sharon held up a hand. "An attorney, Detective Lewis. We both know that you need one. Not only are you looking at the murder charges but there are also several felony counts of tampering with evidence, theft, extortion, drug dealing—"

"I never killed anyone!" Lewis stood up, but aware of the stiffening of the two lieutenants and the uniformed officer at the door, he remained where he stood. "Yeah, okay, fine. We took money—"

"Detective." Sharon's voice dropped even lower. She shook her head slowly. "You should think very carefully before you continue speaking."

Provenza looked around quickly. "Get Buzz," he hissed at Flynn. " _Now!_ "

"I am right here." There wasn't time to go to the electronics room and turn on the equipment. It was ready, but he didn't want to risk missing even a moment. Buzz moved into the room with a camera in his hands. He nodded to the Lieutenants; it was recording.

"I wave." Lewis looked nervously around the room. He had been sitting there for hours. He knew this was bad. He wasn't an idiot, he already heard about the dead cop and knew that it was Elliot. It was only a matter of time that this would all come back to him. That damned nosy Sergeant was poking around. "I wave my right to counsel." Lewis dropped back into his seat. He scrubbed his hands over his face. "I didn't kill Elliot. I never killed anyone. No one was supposed to get hurt. This was just about putting my damn kid through school. Yeah, we took money for some stuff. We sold stuff that was already stolen, and a couple of gangs paid us to look the other way on drug deals. That was it. I had nothing to do with Sergeant Elliot."

Sharon reached out blindly and was not disappointed when a legal pad and pen were placed in her hand. Lieutenant Tao had stepped up beside her. She placed them on the table and slid them across its surface. "Start writing. I want names. I want dates. I want to know every single case that you bungled for a dollar and how much you earned from it." She continued to hold his gaze. "And John, pay special attention to the Martinez bust last year. I believe that it resulted in the death of an officer. Shawn Bertetto."

"Then if I were you," Andy had his hands tucked into his pockets, "I would start really hoping that your partner corroborates the whole damned thing."

"Oh yeah." Provenza nodded when Lewis's attention was turned on them. "We've got your buddy Fiess in the room down the hall. Be detailed. You wouldn't want DDA Hobbs to toss your little spontaneous confession out for the sake of a better statement. Would you?"

"Yeah." Andy rocked back on his heels. "I wonder what 'ol Ryan is gonna have to say for himself? Maybe we should go find out," he suggested to his partner.

"Maybe we should," Provenza agreed.

John Lewis shook his head. "Ryan won't talk. He was in it for the money. He didn't need it, he just wanted it." Lewis swept a hand over his face again. "Fiess won't talk, he'll just… I'll write it all down, but there has to be something better than Murder on the table."

"That," Sharon stated succinctly, "will depend entirely upon what you tell us and how well we can prove it. The rest will be up to the District Attorney's office."

The Captain turned on her heel and Lewis shifted in his seat. "Captain," he shook his head. "I didn't kill Sergeant Elliot." He knew that was what she cared about most. Everyone knew that.

Sharon stopped. Her back was straight as she turned. Her eyes dipped to the legal pad in front of him before her brows arched. "Prove it," she told him. Her heels clicked against the tiled floor as she left the room.

Provenza cast a look to his left. His gaze met Flynn's and he nodded slightly. "Amy, Julio, stay here and take the Detective's statement. Tao, you and I will have a chat with Detective Fiess. In the meantime, Buzz, get those cameras going in the other interview room."

"I will just need five minutes." Buzz nodded once and passed his camera to Julio as he left the room.

"I don't think that any of us will be leaving here for a while," Provenza stated.

She completely bypassed her office, but Andy expected that she would. He followed her to the back hall, the one that held the storage closets that most of them forgot existed until they needed something from inside one of them. There was a row of windows with a fairly good view of the city. Andy found Sharon there, hands braced against the window ledge, back still straight as she stared at the city before her. He shoved his hands into his pockets again as he approached. There was a small voice in the back of his head that was reminding him that he could be taking his life into his hands, but he pressed on. She had a right to be angry; hell, they all were, but he knew that her current state was fueled by a good deal of betrayal too.

Sharon held up a hand as he neared. She didn't look at him. Her gaze remained locked ahead of her. "I do not need to be handled right now," she stated slowly, voice still low and brimming with warning.

"Good thing." Andy shrugged as he turned and leaned against the ledge, his back to the city. "I'm not allowed to do that here anyway."

Her head turned slowly. The look that she fixed him with would have quite a few officers retreat hastily from her presence. It was the glare that had earned her many nicknames over the years, and one that she had typically reserved for the most difficult individuals. Andy stared back her, seemingly unfazed and it made her want to bear her teeth at him. She turned her gaze back to the city instead. He wasn't responsible for her mood, but she thought he might be foolish for daring to brave it. Her jaw clenched tightly. Sharon drew a slow breath and let it out slowly. "There are moments when I truly believe that you may be insane. This could be one of them."

"Why?" Andy tilted his head at her. "Because I like to poke the dragon? We haven't had a good fight in a while." His lips pursed and his brows rose while he mused. "Years actually. Not since you were still in FID."

"I wish that I had the energy to indulge you, but honestly…" Even as angry as she was at present, she just couldn't seem to find it within herself to try. "Maybe later."

"I'm going to hold you to that." He tugged his hands out of his pockets and folded his arms across his chest. Andy studied the floor in front of him. "We can send Amy and Mike to pick up Sergeant Staples."

"No." Sharon turned and mimicked his stance. She shook her hair back and sighed again. "I want to do that myself. I think I will take Julio. I am just having a very hard time believing that the Sergeant was part of this." They had worked together for too long for her to be able to wrap her mind around it. "It is hard enough to reconcile the evil and despicable things that people in this city can do to one another but even more difficult when it happens among our own ranks." Her head tilted and her gaze turned retrospective. "There have been moments when even _I_ believed that Sergeant Staples could be too rigid in his adherence to _the rules_. Now I have to question if all of that was just a cover and how many officers' cases need to be reevaluated."

Andy frowned at her. "What are you thinking? That he was harder than he had to be? Or more lenient when he should crack down? Is there really any way to truly know that without opening every case that he ever touched?"

"No." She closed her eyes. Just the thought of it was daunting. It sent a shudder down her spine. She could very well imagine the number of cases that Staples had worked during his tenure in Professional Standards, but to revisit all of them would be impossible. It was more prudent to focus on the specifics of their current case and be prepared for any future problems that Sergeant Staples's actions may create. "How did we get to this point?" She asked. The question was posed quietly, and was mostly rhetorical, but she turned her gaze to the man beside her. "How was all of this missed?"

The Lieutenant offered her a sad and somewhat resigned smile. He shrugged. "When you know the rules, hell, when you make the rules… who better to break them without getting caught at it." Andy straightened and turned toward her. He allowed his arms to drop and gestured as he spoke. "Think about it, Sharon. What kind of damage could _you_ do if you set your mind to it? How long before _you_ would get caught?"

She stared back at him for several long moments before she forced herself to look away. The picture he painted was rather disturbing. It was not a thought that she had ever entertained. When he laid it out for her, she had to admit that he was correct. When Sharon thought about what she and other Internal Affairs veterans knew, the amount of damage and chaos that they could create before anyone became the wiser filled her with a sense of dread. "I did not want to think about that." She shook her head slowly. "This is exactly why those in that department need to have the highest ethical standards. I thought that Sergeant Staples was one of them. Andy…" Sharon turned toward him. "We should be very careful with how we proceed. The entire integrity of Professional Standards could be called into question."

"Yeah." He sighed. "That's the problem, isn't it? Was Staples working with anyone else? And if Staples was getting away with it, who else is? Who else might try? Before this is all considered done, there is going to have to be some cleaning done."

"Let's solve the murder first." Sharon rolled her head on her shoulders before straightening. "I will take Julio with me to pick up the Sergeant. All things considered, normally I would brief Commander Michaelson and put him on notice to begin auditing his department, but I think that should wait. What I will do is bring Chief Taylor up to speed and recommend that we lock this down until we have more information. I would like for you to call Andrea and make sure that she knows that we are moving on this now. I want her watching the Fiess interview." Sharon started to move and stopped. "Oh no. Gus is following Rusty to Echo Park to drop his car at that shop that you recommended. He was going to drop him off here afterward. Gus is working tonight. It may be a while before I am free to take him home."

"Don't worry about it. Both of our cars are still here." They had ridden out and back in together. "If one of us can't get out of here long enough to drop the kid off, I'll send him home in my car. No big deal." He grinned crookedly at her. "That's assuming I can count on you for a ride."

"Hm." Her head tilted and she managed a small smile. "I think that we can arrange something. Don't worry, Lieutenant. I will not leave you stranded."

When she walked past him and down the hall, Andy shook his head. "The last time you said that, you sent me home with Provenza." He followed her at a more sedate pace. "I am not feeling the warm and fuzzies here."

"That would be a good thing, Lieutenant." Sharon shot a look at him from over her shoulder. "You're not allowed to feel those here."

"And she gets even." He shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked. "I knew that one would come back to haunt me. Can we go back to the lame moving vehicle jokes?"

 **MCMCMCMCMCMC**

All eyes were on the group that stepped into the Force Investigation offices that afternoon. Heads turned and worked stopped. Sergeant Davis stood from his desk, but wisely kept his mouth closed. They all knew the expression that their former Captain was wearing and they knew well to stay out of her way. She swept through the bullpen flanked by one of her detectives and followed by a pair of uniformed officers. She strode with purpose toward Lieutenant Wheaton's office. Through the glass walls, those present in the bullpen could see him as he met with Sergeant Staples, a meeting that had been going on for quite some time. Sergeant Davis's head inclined and his eyes narrowed when, upon entering the office, Lieutenant Wheaton stood but the other man remained seated. It was an odd exchange for a man that was usually so well mannered.

"What do you think Jake?" Lance Thomas, one of the younger detectives had wandered over to stand at the Sergeant's desk. He had only joined the division a couple of years before the Captain transferred, but he was there long enough to know how she handled things.

The Sergeant barely spared him a glance. "I'm really not sure that I want to guess."

Inside the office, Lieutenant Wheaton nodded grimly. He had been expecting her. He didn't know what to make of the fact that she brought Sanchez with her. Mark was expecting one of the older Lieutenants, perhaps even Detective Sykes. He wasn't sure what bringing the subject of one of Staples's most recent cases was supposed to mean. At the same time, Wheaton wasn't sure that he had ever really been able to get inside that woman's head. "Captain," He spoke after only a moment. "The Sergeant and I were expecting your arrival."

Sharon's brows arched. "Yes, Lieutenant, thank you." She had asked that he be detained, quietly. There was no reason to make more of a scene of this moment than there needed to be. Sharon was left questioning the Lieutenant's motives, however. Detaining the Sergeant did not require a quiet conversation in which the details of her case could be revealed before she had an opportunity to question him. She had no proof that the Lieutenant had done that, but she would need to tread carefully. She turned her attention on the Sergeant and studied him for a moment. When he finally returned her gaze, his guilt was apparent. He was aware that he had been caught. "Sergeant Staples, I need for you to come with us, please."

The Sergeant hung his head and shook it. A heavy sigh had his shoulders drooping. "No one was supposed to get hurt," He said. "I tried to get Matt to leave this one alone." Staples looked up at her again. "He was like a dog with a bone. He just wouldn't stop."

Julio shifted his weight and frowned at the man. "So you killed him?" His hands went to his waist. One rested on his gun, the other on his handcuffs. He had moved slightly, so that he stood beside his Captain, their shoulders almost touching. He would push her aside if he needed to, if the Sergeant proved unpredictable. Sanchez was having a hard time believing that someone like Staples would be a danger, but then, he never would have believed that he was involved in this case at all. He watched the Sergeant wince at his words and felt like hitting him. That was an urge he was able to easily suppress. What he felt was more along the lines of disgust than anger, and it was reflected in his tone when he spoke again. "You put a bullet in a man's head because he was going find out that you and a bunch of others were dirty cops."

Sharon held up a hand before the Sergeant could answer. "Sergeant Staples, I feel that I should remind you before we go any farther that you are entitled to contact your union representative and a lawyer."

Staples glanced at her. "I know how this works, _Captain_." He sniffed at her and rolled his eyes. That was a promotion that should have been his. They had both been up for Lieutenant at the same time. She had gotten it, and here he was, years later, still stuck at Sergeant. "Let's not pretend that anyone in this department gives a damn about my civil rights right now, or that you don't have Hobbs waiting to make me an offer that I won't be able to refuse. Yeah," he continued, "Matt found out about it. He figured it all out. I knew he was getting close. I wanted to put him off for a while. The thing is, he had already figured it out." Staples stood up, and when the two uniforms moved close, he held his arms out. His gun was locked in his desk; he wasn't armed. "Matt was going to let me turn myself in. We would come in and talk to the Lieutenant together. What I couldn't get him to understand was that this was not just about me. It was bigger than me. There were other cops, and people on the outside. We've got contacts that expect to get paid. They want their goods moved. They weren't going to understand if it just stopped so that I could follow _the rules_."

"So you shot him." This time it was Sharon that said it. She was staring at the Sergeant, not entirely certain that she had ever known him. Unlike Ally Moore, this was an officer that she had worked with for quite some years. He had been in FID for a time, and then he had moved to Criminal Investigations. Sharon knew that he had his eye on taking over that department, but there had been others; officers that were a better fit, brighter and more energetic. People meant to lead. Staples was a good investigator, but he was not a leader. "Sergeant Elliot was giving you an opportunity to keep your honor in tact, and you killed him for that."

The other man shook his head. "I didn't go there to kill him. But yeah, I shot him. He wasn't going to let it go. I thought it was the best way to stop all of this." He glanced at Sanchez and then at Wheaton, and then he shrugged. "The gun I used is in the van. I drove it out to Long Beach, left it at the docks. I bought that gun as a backup weapon. I usually keep in my car. It's never been used before, and it's not registered." Personal weapons didn't have to be. Most officers had a second gun for just that reason that they kept in their homes or vehicles.

"I see." Disappointment was warring with rage. Sharon wanted to scream at him. Instead she looked away from him. She turned her gaze on Lieutenant Wheaton. "We will get him to repeat all of this on the record, but DDA Hobbs may require you to make a statement. One of my Detectives will be in touch, Lieutenant."

"Understood, Captain." Wheaton nodded slowly. He had figured Staples was involved, and was doing some shady stuff, but he hadn't expected that he pulled the trigger himself. He watched Sanchez cuff the man and read him his rights. He was surprisingly more composed than his file would indicate him being capable of. The Captain, on the other hand, was holding herself ramrod straight, brimming with anger and not entirely bothering to suppress it. When the group left his office, the Captain let the uniforms take Sergeant Staples and move him through the bullpen. She strode along behind, and if he was disgraced by being led out in handcuffs, she didn't seem to give a damn. Wheaton hissed a breath through his teeth. Damn, but she was a hard one. He was infinitely glad that she had moved _out_ of Professional Standards.

The uniforms drove the Sergeant back across town, where indeed Hobbs was waiting, along with Chief Taylor and the rest of Major Crimes. Sharon had already notified the DDA of the spontaneous confession that the Sergeant had given. They expected him to repeat the same on record, but if he didn't, they had witnesses to the original. There was no reason, at this point, for him to deny his involvement. He had given them the vehicle and murder weapon too. Sharon already had Lieutenants Flynn and Provenza working with Long Beach Police to retrieve the vehicle. Andy had gone with Amy to pick it up. Warrants and cross-jurisdictional permissions would be in place by the time that they arrived with the SID team that was joining them. Buzz had gone with them too, and in his absence, Lieutenant Tao was running the equipment in electronics.

It was going to be a one-two punch. Sharon wasn't going to wait for her detectives to pick up the evidence. She sent Lieutenant Provenza in with DDA Hobbs to get the Sergeant's official statement. That he wasn't requesting a lawyer still bothered Sharon, but he had officially waved. They could not force the man to hire an attorney or to accept one appointed by the court. That it could come back to bite them at a later date was just a risk that they would have to move forward with. The upside to the deal making process, however, was that the Sergeant would not have the opportunity for an appeal. As long as he did not recant in front of a judge later, he would be going away to prison for a very long time.

Detective Fiess, on the other hand, was proving to be a problem. He had lawyered up and was refusing to speak. Detective Lewis had been correct about him. Even the information that they had gained from his partner had not moved him. Lewis had accepted his deal. He was taking Murder Two, and would be up for parole in twenty years. It wasn't perfectly ideal, but that was one down, and the information that he had given them was working in their favor to close the rest of the case. Fiess would go to trial, unless they found another angle on him. They would come at him again once they had the statement from Staples and all the evidence in hand.

Gus dropped Rusty off while Sharon was waiting for Andy and Amy to return. She offered him the Lieutenant's car, but he opted to wait. He was looking for a new idea for his next VLOG and wanted to look through cold case files. His success with the Alice case and the lessons he had learned while covering Slider's trial had Sharon agreeing. Most of the archives were scanned into the LAPD database. Sharon put him to work looking through the cold cases that were older than ten years. Those, she decided, would be safe enough for her aspiring journalist to poke at.

In the hours that passed following Sergeant Staples's arrest, Sharon was much to busy to consider what Rusty may or may not uncover in his research. She trusted him to stay within the guidelines laid down during his previous stories or to ask questions if those lines did not seem clear as they applied to any new stories that he was working on. In the meantime, Hobbs had offered Sergeant Staples Murder One with life in prison for the killing of Sergeant Matthew Elliot. She would wave the special circumstances in exchange for a full disclosure of his illegal activities inside the department and the names of any other officers that had been involved. He had taken it, and spent the next few hours recounting, on the record, the officers in Narcotics and Robbery Homicide that he had worked with over the past five years to pocket money in exchange for favors to suspects.

The Sergeant had even admitted that Julio had been a mark. Most of the officers involved were people that he had investigated at some point or another, he had gone easier on them than he should, and later called in those favors. He didn't have anyone in Major Crimes. Julio had been an opportunity for that. So he did his old Captain a favor, let the guy ride out some Anger Management classes, as well as a suspension when he probably should have been fired, and figured he would keep an eye on him. See what other favors he could do for the Detective in the future… and when Sanchez felt like he owed the Sergeant, Staples intended to collect. Garring, he explained, had a habit of looking the other way. Staples had gotten tired of disciplinary boards looking the other way when they shouldn't; of officers pocketing cash and getting away with it. If he couldn't beat them, he would join them. It was Captain Garring that led him to Fiess and Lewis. The rest had seemed to work out quite well; at least until Sergeant Elliot became suspicious.

The van that Staples had driven the night that Elliot was killed was hauled into the print shed. SID began pulling it apart. The weapon went to ballistics. It was the same caliber as the one used in the shooting, and already prints had come back to Staples. They would have what they needed to approach Detective Fiess again in the morning. They had enough from Staples and Lewis to pick up Captain Garring. He was booked in to holding and would be held over night. The others were remanded back to holding too. Because they were officers they would be kept separate of general population, and watched carefully.

Since it was now a matter of SID doing their jobs, Sharon dismissed her people. She sent them home for the evening. Everyone would reconvene the following morning. By then she expected to have the report back from SID. DDA Hobbs would be meeting them to go over the details. They would make one more attempt at outlining a deal with Detective Fiess. If he continued to refuse, he would be shipped off to county where he would await trial. They could only hope for the best.

It had been a long and not altogether wonderful day. Andy offered to drive Sharon home in her car, and she accepted the offer. A quiet night was all that she wanted. She didn't exactly want to be alone either. Rusty was brimming with ideas when he met them by the elevators. He thought he had found a case to dig into. He wanted to talk to Andy about it before he started. He told Sharon that the idea had been in the back of his head for a couple of years now, so he had looked through the cold cases and gone specifically to the case file that contained everything on the murder of Buzz's father and uncle. He just didn't want to offend the other man by looking into it, but he hated that it was unsolved. Andy didn't think that Buzz would be offended, but promised to sit down and go over the case file with him after dinner.

Sharon stood at the back of the elevator. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She leaned against the elevator wall and watched the pair. Months before Rusty would have hardly spoken to him, but since Andy's injury and the Slider trial, the pair had gotten closer. Whatever Rusty thought of Andy's often cynical comments about the _dirtbags_ of the world, the Lieutenant had become his go-to for information on suspects and the finer details of murder investigations. Common ground was all that those two had needed, it seemed, and they had found it. Sharon might not especially like that Rusty spent so much time focusing on murders and the darkness that surrounded them, but it was the path that his life had put him on. She was only glad that he was on this side of it, and that a career in police work did not interest him. If he wanted to investigate crimes as a journalist, she was perfectly okay with it.

The discussion that Andy and Rusty began came to a stop once they left the elevator. Silence settled over them as they got into the car and headed toward Los Feliz. Rusty seemed to sense Sharon's mood once they were in the much smaller space. He studied his phone as the distance between the car and downtown grew longer. "My car is ready. They had the part in stock. I now have working breaks again and Sharon can stop freaking out." Rusty read the text that he had just received. "Do you think that we can pick it up tonight?" He wasn't looking forward to having to get up early and make the trip to Echo Park the following morning.

Andy glanced at Sharon beside him. When she nodded her agreement, he shot a look into the backseat. "Yeah, that's not a problem. It's not that far out of the way. We can swing over and grab it."

"We can stop at _Alfred's_ to get dinner," Sharon commented. It was a small bistro near Andy's home that they were both fond of. She turned slightly in her seat and glanced at Rusty behind her. "Should I expect Gus to join us?"

He felt like rolling his eyes at her and he almost did. "No," he stated, and drew out the syllable, in much the same way that she usually did. "Just because we are dating does not mean that we spend every minute together." Rusty gave his mother a pointed look. The corners of his mouth twitched toward a smile. She still looked so tired and he could see beyond the mask that she was wearing; she was still very upset too, but she was trying so hard to just be _normal_. He didn't have all the details of the case, but what he heard around the Murder Room and what was beginning to leak to the media, Rusty heard enough. This was a hard one. It wasn't over yet, but they had all the pieces. He just hoped it got better for her now. Until then, Rusty figured he could give her normal. He shook his head and made a face. "Just because you spend all your waking moments with _your_ boyfriend, doesn't mean…"

"Ah!" Sharon pointed a finger at him. She leaned between the front seats of the car, and when Andy chuckled at them from the driver's seat, she smacked his shoulder. "This is not funny. Do not encourage him. We do not spend _every_ waking moment together. How can you even justify that with facts, we spend plenty of time alone too."

"Sure you do." Rusty rolled his eyes at her this time. She was smiling. Her eyes still looked sad, but his mother was smiling and that was always a good thing. He hated it when Sharon was sad, mainly because that usually meant that things were _really_ bad. Rusty felt like they had enough bad in the past, he was done with bad. All he wanted from now on was the good. "This from the woman who did not even realize that she was dating."

"God almighty!" It was Andy that groaned in response to that statement. "This again?" He stopped at a red light and looked into the back seat. "Are you kidding me right now? You're really starting to sound like Provenza, kid. We were not dating."

"You were dating," Rusty replied. He didn't miss a beat as he grinned widely at the two of them. "It's okay. You were slow on the uptake. I mean, at your age…" The twin glares that he received made him laugh. "I'm kidding. Geez. About the age thing, anyway. You were totally dating. Now you're practically married." He tilted his head at his mother and affected an innocent look. "When can we expect Andy to move back in?"

"I don't believe this." Andy shook his head as his gaze returned to the street in front of them. He rested his elbow against the car door rubbed at his forehead. "She had to have a kid. Not just any kid, a real smart mouthed little…"

"Okay, okay," Sharon leaned back in her seat with a low laugh. "Rusty, stop aggravating Andy." She nudged the man in question's arm and gave him an amused look. "I am going to have to agree. You may very well be spending too much time with Lieutenant Provenza, Rusty. Listening to the two of you sometimes feels like having them at home with me."

Rusty leaned forward into the space between the front seats and grinned crookedly at her. "You're welcome."

They had both said it, and now Andy was grinning at her too. Sharon groaned at them. "I walked right into that."

"You kind of did." Andy smirked at her.

"You wanted us to get along." Rusty fluttered his lashes at her and affected a crooked smirk.

Sharon cut a glance at him. Her eyes narrowed. She pushed at his forehead to send him into the back seat again. "That was never what I meant. I am beginning to think that the two of you have spent entirely too much time together while Andy was recovering with us."

"I never asked to be the _Flynnsitter_ ," Rusty settled back against the seat and let his gaze drift out the passenger window.

"You told me to make the best of a rotten situation," Andy flashed his most charming smile at her.

"Oh no." Sharon held up a finger. She twisted in her seat to look between the two men. "You two do _not_ get to team up against me."

"Especially when we're still out numbered," Andy laughed. "Hey Rusty, maybe if Gus isn't working too late tonight, we should have him over for dinner anyway. I think we might need the numbers."

"He's not getting off work until around eleven," Rusty said. "I would definitely call him, but he's got to go back to work really early tomorrow too, so…" He shrugged and let the rest of the sentence trail off. It wasn't a big deal, he was used to being alone with his mother and her boyfriend. They all knew that after dinner he would retreat to his room anyway, there were just things that he never needed to see. Ever. Those two flirting with one another was at the top of the list.

"Hm." Sharon hummed thoughtfully. Her lips pursed while she watched the cars ahead of them begin to move through the intersection. "Maybe we should pick up enough for Gus and you can take it to him. He still needs to eat."

"That's not a bad idea." Rusty had to admit that the thought had crossed his mind too. "I would like it even more if you weren't just trying to get me out of the house so that the two of you can make out…"

Sharon's jaw dropped open. She made a small sound of outrage. She was turning in her seat when the car jolted hard. "What…"

"Dammit!" Andy slammed on the breaks and stopped the car just inches away from running into the vehicle in front of them, which had also stopped suddenly and for no apparent reason. "What the hell…" He really hated Los Angeles traffic. "Now what is this joker do—" He didn't finish his statement. They lurched forward and there was the sound of squealing breaks and cracking fiberglass.

There was silence in the few moments that passed. Everyone in the car seemed dazed in the beginning. Their ears were still ringing from the sound of the two cars colliding. Andy and Sharon both moved at the same time. Sharon was pulling at her seatbelt to unclip it. Once it was free, she turned to get a better look at her son. "Is everyone okay? Rusty…"

"Yeah I'm good. What the hell?" Rusty was rubbing his shoulder where the seatbelt had tightened as he lurched against it.

"The idiot didn't see that we stopped. Probably texting…" Andy rolled his neck and looked over at Sharon. He let his gaze sweep over her but she appeared to be okay, just as irritated as he was but focused on making sure that Rusty was okay. "Alright, dammit. I'll call this in, Rusty, we may not make it to the shop to pick up your car before it closes…"

"Great." Rusty let his head drop backward against the seat rest behind him. That would mean leaving early in the morning to pick it up so that he would make it to class.

"Look," Andy twisted in his seat and his back ached. He silently cursed the idiot drivers of the world. "If we don't get out of here in time, we'll double back to the PAB and pick up my car. You can take it to school tomorrow and—" The statement never finished leaving his mouth. Light glinting off something caught his eye. He looked beyond Rusty to the figure approaching from behind the car. Andy barely had time to open his mouth and yell out before the sound of gunshots and breaking glass filled the car. "Get down!"

Two figures had approached, one from the front and the other from the back. They opened fire on the passenger side and Andy reached for Sharon to pull her down but she was already climbing into the back seat. She grabbed Rusty and was pushing him into the floor of the car while she covered him. Andy's hand wrapped around his own gun and he pushed, stumbling out of the car on the driver's side. He felt something strike his arm and ignored it. It was instinct that drove him to lift the gun.

He shouted to identify himself, but something in the back of his head told him that the shooters already knew whom they were aiming at. As he began returning fire, they ran. Andy followed them with his aim, but there were pedestrians along the sidewalk. They were screaming and running for cover. The two men ran to the car in front of him, the one that had blocked his way, and dove into it. He tried to commit the license plate to memory as it sped away, leaving the damaged vehicle behind him empty and blocking the street.

He stood there for only a moment. His heart was pounding in his chest. His breaths came quickly, and in time with the rush of sound in his ears. When he moved it was to drop his gun into the driver's seat and turn to survey the car. There was broken glass all around, but he was focused on the two unmoving figures in the backseat.

 **-TBC-**


	11. Chapter 11

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

Andy jerked the back passenger door open and leaned inside. Sharon was still covering Rusty and the boy was groaning loudly. "Are either of you hit?"

When Sharon looked up at Andy her eyes were wide. They were wild and held just as much panic as they did anger. Her hand was covering a bleeding bullet wound in Rusty's side. Her mouth opened but there was no sound forthcoming, not at first. There was another to his thigh, and it too was bleeding badly. Sharon shook her head and blinked rapidly. "Pull him out."

"Goddammit!" Andy could only make out the two wounds. He reached down and slipped his hands beneath Rusty's arms. He pulled the boy through the opening and out onto the street where he could lay him flat. Sharon joined him and they both knelt beside Rusty, each of them covering a bleeding wound. His head turned toward one of the pedestrians that he spied approaching the car from the side. "Call 911!" Beneath them Rusty coughed and he winced. "Okay, alright. We've got you kid."

"Sharon…" He was squirming beneath them. It hurt like nothing that he had ever felt before and his chest felt heavy. "What…"

"No." She leaned down. "Shh," she crooned quietly. "Don't talk. Help is on the way, and you are going to be just fine." Her stomach clenched when she had to press down more tightly against the bleeding wound in his side. His back arched and he cried out. She felt his pain. "I know, I am sorry, but this is going to hurt honey."

With the kid moving it was harder to keep pressure on the thigh wound. Andy grimaced as blood leaked out around his fingers. It was warm and sticky, and he cursed quietly. "Sharon." He had to call her name twice to get her attention. When she looked at him, he stared back hard. "Can you reach my belt? This one is pretty bad. We need to tie it off."

Her eyes followed his to the bleeding wound in her son's thigh. Her jaw clenched. Sharon adjusted her grip on the wound in his side to apply pressure with only one hand and reached across Rusty to loosen Andy's belt at his waist. When she did pain moved through her. It was hot and almost blinding. She cried out without warning. It stole her breath, the pain that moved through her. She bit down on her bottom lip and concentrated on breathing through her nose as she wrapped her fingers around Andy's belt buckle and tugged at it.

She had gone pale. Andy's eyes narrowed. "Sharon…"

"I'm fine." She tugged at his belt and loosened it. Every movement she made hurt. It was almost blinding. She wheezed as she tugged and although she tried to ignore it, she was aware of the wound now and could feel the warmth of blood soaking her blouse. Sharon gave the belt one more solid tug and sat back on her heels with it. The world tilted and began to spin around her.

"Sharon!" He caught her when she fell forward. His arms went around her and he felt it before he saw it. Her jacket was soaked through on the right side. It was below her shoulder and bleeding badly. "Son of a bitch!" He laid her down beside Rusty and made quick work of using his belt as a tourniquet for the boy's leg wound. He reached for Sharon when he was sure that it would hold and rolled her onto her side. He pulled her black blazer free and slipped it off of her. The blue blouse was soaked completely through. She had definitely been shot, but Andy couldn't make out an exit wound. "Goddammit!" He folded her jacket and pressed it against the wound.

"No." She tried to push him off of her and sit up, but moving was too difficult. "Andy, Rusty…"

He looked across her at the boy. The leg wound was still bleeding but not nearly as bad as it had been. Now there was only the wound in his side to contend with. In the distance he could hear sirens but they still seemed too far away. His jaw clenched. "You," he pointed at one of the onlookers that were standing around staring at them. "Get over here." No one seemed to move. "Now dammit!"

"Andy…"

"Shit, Sharon!" He moved between them, the two prone figures on the ground beside the bullet-ridden sedan. A woman came forward out of the crowd and Andy had a choice. He was staring at Sharon who was staring back at him. He ground his teeth together. There wasn't truly much of a choice. He let go of her. "Hold this," he told the woman, and nodded to the blood soaked jacket. "Just hold it tight and try not to move her too much." He had to force his gaze away. He left Sharon in the hands of a stranger and turned his attention back to Rusty. The kid was still breathing, thank god, but seemed barely conscious. That was probably for the best, he thought, but his heart lurched when he put more pressure on the bullet wound in the kid's side than Sharon would have been capable of and caused the boy to jerk and cry out in pain. "Yeah, I hear you kid. You go right on ahead and scream. It hurts like a bitch and you can let the world hear it…" If Rusty was crying out, he was breathing, and that meant he was still alive. It was a sound that might haunt him for the rest of his life, but for now… in just that moment, the kid was alive.

It felt like it took forever for the sirens to get closer. Patrol arrived on scene first. The incident was called in as a traffic accident. There was a single ambulance behind them but the responding officers called for a second. Andy found himself pushed aside when the paramedics arrived. He had to take a step back when they took over. He started to run a hand over his face but realized at the last second that they were covered in blood. That was also when he realized that his arm was stinging like hell. Andy looked down at it and found the sleeve of his jacket ripped and bloody. He grimaced as he shrugged out of it. The blue shirt underneath had a fairly good-sized bloodstain, but it was only a graze, barely a scratch. As he took stock, he realized that he had a few scratches from the glass that had blown inward when the shooting began. Another bullet had grazed his hip, just below the waist of his trousers, and that one was aching like a son of a bitch. He was otherwise unharmed, and waved off an officer that came forward with a first aid kit.

While the paramedics worked, the two patrol units that initially arrived on scene called for additional units, including traffic. A perimeter was set up around the two vehicles in the street, and as more police arrived on scene, the crowd of onlookers was pushed back. Andy stood by, hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. His gaze remained locked on the scene beside Sharon's car, where paramedics were moving back and forth between her and Rusty.

"Lieutenant." One of the patrol officers moved along side him. "We called this in to central. Your division is going to be rolling out," he said. Someone had shot at a pair of off-duty detectives in the middle of a busy city street; that definitely qualified as a major crime, at least as far as most of the department was concerned. FID would be on their way to the scene too, since several of the witnesses were already saying that the Lieutenant had returned fire. "What happened?"

He would have to give a statement, and it sounded casual enough, but Flynn and the officer both knew that there was no way in hell that he was going to be hanging around and waiting for Force Investigation to show up. The rules could be damned. Sharon would have his ass for that, but if she was in any condition to read him the riot act later, he would take it. Andy barely spared the officer a look. He jerked his head toward the car that was parked behind the now ruined silver sedan. "There was a car in front of us. It hard stopped. That one hit us from behind. A minute later a pair of shooters opened up on us. They took off in the first car, left that one." They had just moved through the intersection. Andy's eyes narrowed, but his gaze remained on his girlfriend and her son. "Traffic cams probably picked up the whole thing. My gun is in the front seat. You'll want it for FID when they get here. I don't think I hit either of them. The Captain's is in her purse. She was shielding the kid."

The officer swore quietly. It was bad enough they had a cop down, but a police captain shot up while protecting her kid, that wasn't going to go over well, and especially not with the other recent cop killing. Most of their department was already on edge about it. Two cops in less than a week, and a third one injured. It was going to start to feel like they were under attack. While they spoke, the sound of more sirens growing closer could be heard. When the Lieutenant rattled off the license plate of the car that had left the scene, the officer wrote it down. Another ambulance arrived, along with two more patrol units. The officer made quick work of retrieving both the Lieutenant's gun, as well as the Captain's.

The arrival of the second ambulance was something of a relief for Andy. With the second team of paramedics present, he knew that they would be moving Sharon and Rusty soon. Somehow it didn't surprise him when it was Sharon that was loaded first. The medics had managed to stabilize Rusty, but it was his mother that was pale and barely breathing. Andy jolted and almost followed her. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth and forced himself to remain where he stood. His eyes followed the gurney, though, as it was loaded into the back of the first bus. That she wouldn't want Rusty left alone was the only thing keeping him there. The kid was in and out, and obviously in a lot of pain. Andy focused his attention on the kid so that he wouldn't have to watch the ambulance drive away, although his ears strained to hear the sounds of the sirens as they faded.

He recalled that the officer had mentioned calling the shooting in; while he waited for Rusty to be loaded and moved, Andy pulled his phone out. It didn't really surprise him that there were several missed calls from his partner. He never even noticed it vibrating in his pocket. With a sigh he swept his finger across the screen and called Provenza back. He barely managed to open his mouth before his partner's irate voice filled his ear.

"Flynn! It's about time. What the hell is going on? Patrol called in a shooting? Taylor is flipping out because he can't get ahold of the Captain, and neither of you are answering your phone."

"Sharon is on her way to Cedars," Andy replied. "I'm still on scene with Rusty, they'll be moving him soon..." He paused for a moment and sighed. That had silenced his partner's complaining. Now that he was listening, Andy quickly filled the other man in on everything that had happened. "Patrol has both our guns," he concluded. "I'm not waiting for FID; I'll go with Rusty."

The other side of the call remained silent for a moment. When he finally responded, Provenza's voice remained low and somewhat grim. The scene, as Flynn described it, didn't bode well. "How are they?"

Andy's gaze moved to the pavement in front of him. He shook his head before he realized that his partner couldn't see it. "The kid is stable. They're getting ready to load him right now."

Provenza suppressed the urge to curse when he didn't go on. " _Flynn_."

"She wasn't moving." He ground his teeth together. "She seemed fine and then she wasn't. I didn't realize she was hit. She was covering the kid. I don't know. I..." Andy shook his head again. "I don't know," he repeated. That was the truth. He had no idea if Sharon was okay or not.

"Dammit." Provenza scowled at the phone on his console and scrubbed a hand over his face. He was driving with lights and sirens on, but he was still twenty minutes away. "Okay," he said finally, "You go with Rusty. I will deal with Wheaton and his people; I doubt they will complain too much considering what's going on. I will call Taylor back and tell him what happened. Someone needs to call the Captain's kids. I'm going to have Amy meet you at Cedars. I'm sending everyone else out to the scene."

"Not until I know what's going on." Andy watched as Rusty's gurney was pushed toward the ambulance and followed it. "I will call Rick and Emily as soon as I know how Sharon is. It's going to be hours before Emily can get here, and I don't want Rick doing something stupid like trying to drive if he can't get a flight." If he had to, he'd send Charlie to pick him up. His son was only a couple of hours away in Sacramento. "Look, they're moving Rusty now. I'll call you as soon as I know something."

"Do that." Provenza paused for a moment. "Flynn, I'm sure she's fine. It'll take more than this."

"Yeah." He wanted to think that. Andy shook his head. "I hope you're right. What I want to know is... who the hell arranged this?"

"I intend to find out," his partner promised. It was obvious that it wasn't just some random, road rage shooting. It was planned. The Captain and Flynn had been followed, and their shooters had an escape route in mind. Provenza ended the call and concentrated on moving through traffic. He had wondered just how bad this case would get before it ended; now he knew.

By the time that Provenza made it to the scene, the second ambulance was already long gone. Tao was waiting for him when he stepped out of his explorer. The other Lieutenant was holding his phone and looking grim. Sanchez stood beside him, seething with barely controlled emotion. "Amy met the Captain's ambulance at Cedars," Mike reported.

"They're taking her to surgery," Julio stated, in a tone so low it was almost inaudible. "Rusty is still stable. The leg wound looks superficial. They're checking on the other one. Officer Jacobs told FID that he sent Flynn to the hospital to get checked out. He had two minor wounds that he wouldn't let paramedics treat on scene."

"He got grazed," Tao said. "Arm and flank. I'm surprised that it wasn't worse."

"Son of a bitch!" Provenza ripped the white bucket hat off his head and slapped it against his leg. He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Where is Buzz?"

"Filming the car." Julio took a half step back and pointed at the bullet-ridden sedan beyond the yellow police tape. Buzz already had his camera in hand and was slowly circling the vehicle while SID was setting up to begin gathering evidence.

"Jesus." Provenza strode toward the silver sedan. He circled the car slowly. The passenger side was completely ruined. The windows were shattered and there were bullet holes through both doors front and rear. On the driver's side, the doors stood open. The Lieutenant glanced into the front seat. There were holes in the front windshield, where stray bullets had passed through it. Both of the seats, driver and passenger were also ruined. Provenza shook his head as he stepped back to look into the rear of the car. Rusty's knapsack was still in the floor behind the front passenger seat. Provenza's jaw clenched at the sight of blood smearing the familiar tan bag. There was blood smeared across the leather seat too, and one of the Captain's shoes lay in the floor behind the driver's seat. Provenza turned where he stood and looked toward the pavement beside the car, where the paramedics had left behind the bandages and packaging they had used while treating the two injured people.

There were two distinct blood stains already turning brown in the late afternoon sunlight. He easily spotted the other shoe, as well as the Captain's blazer. The black material was stiff and stained, and looked as though it had been soaked through. Provenza slapped the hat against his leg again and shook his head. "Okay," he began slowly. "Buzz, keep filming," he noticed that the younger man had stopped. "Julio start looking for casings. Mike…" He waved his hands toward the crowd of onlookers that patrol had detained. "Let's start getting statements. I want to know everything, and I do mean _everything_ , that they know," he stated, almost growling the order.

Julio was standing on the other side of the car. "I want to have a talk with our friend Detective Fiess." He pointed at the bullet casings that were clearly visible on the ground near the car. "Automatic weapons," he told them, although that was obvious from the number of bullet holes that riddled the vehicle. "Patrol already ran the plates and vin number on that car. They don't match. Detective Fiess worked Gang Intelligence. I think we already know what happened here."

"Not yet." Provenza pointed a finger at the younger detective. "By the book, Julio. If we do nothing else by the book for the rest of our careers, this is it. When we talk to Fiess, I don't want him to have even an inch of space to wiggle through. We get him on this." He looked between Sanchez and Tao. "No trial. We put him away, we throw away the key, and that's the end of it."

Tao's hands were at his hips. His lips were pursed. He stared at the pavement in front of him for a moment before nodding. "No trial," he agreed. "Julio?"

The detective glanced toward where Buzz was still filming. There was plenty that he would like to say, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. He nodded instead. "Fine. We give it to Hobbs, but I get to talk to him."

Provenza watched him turn away and begin gathering the casings. He nodded once. "Fair enough." As he had said before, Scary Sanchez wasn't a bad thing to have in their corner, when the occasion called for it, and this occasion as definitely calling for it.

 **MCMCMCMCMCMC**

Amy Sykes was beginning to develop a phobia about hospitals. The antiseptic smell seemed to cling to everything. Even when she stepped outside to use her phone, it continued to surround her. It felt as though all of them had spent entirely too much time in hospitals lately. There was Julio's shooting the previous year, and then the Lieutenant's injury and surgery just that fall. It was the nature of the job; they all knew the risks that lay before them each time they stepped out of their homes wearing their badges. The reality of being injured, of dying, or watching one of their colleagues fall, that was something that all of them had accepted. They carried it in the backs of their minds; it was there, every moment of every day. That was their cross to bear.

It was not Rusty's.

She was left seething over that. Amy stood outside for several moments while she tried to get her temper under control. She had been at the hospital for an hour. The Captain and Rusty were both still in surgery. It was now a matter of waiting. It was something that they should not be doing. Amy drew a deep breath of clean air before she went back into the hospital. They had taken over the third floor waiting room. As Amy made her way back up stairs she considered how much they did not know. She had checked in with Lieutenant Provenza again. She was giving him quarterly updates, and in return, she knew that the rest of the team was still at the scene. It was where she would like to be. She wanted to be doing something, to feel useful. Instead she was told to sit tight, to keep an eye on _that idiot_ , as the Lieutenant had called him, and to keep the rest of them updated.

Amy supposed that was something to do. It was a lot of sitting around, and she was beginning to feel stir crazy, but Lieutenant Flynn was not exactly in any condition to be expected to keep everyone updated. Amy's gaze found him when she stepped back into the waiting room. He was exactly where she had left him, and in exactly the same position that he was in when she left a few minutes before. He was seated near the wall, shoulders hunched and arms resting against his knees. He was staring at the floor. There were clean clothes on the chair beside him, but he hadn't bothered to change into them. His jacket was long gone, and his dress shirt was untucked, wrinkled, and stained. The left sleeve had been cut away and a bandage was wrapped around his bicep. They had convinced him in the ER, while Rusty was being worked on, to allow his two minor wounds to be treated.

It was Cooper that had brought the clothes. Flynn kept a change of clothes in his locker at the PAB. Coop had retrieved them before heading down to check on Rusty. He hadn't stayed. They sent him to the airport to meet Ricky's plane. He would be landing in half an hour. The Captain's daughter wasn't in the air yet. The earliest flight from New York to LA would not be taking off for another hour. Amy supposed that she should amend her previous thought. The Lieutenant was moving. His phone was vibrating every twenty minutes with a request for an update from the Captain's daughter. He answered every one, even if it was just to say that they hadn't heard anything yet.

Amy sighed quietly and let her gaze shift to the figure beside him. Gus had gotten there a few minutes ago. They sent a patrol unit to pick him up at work and bring him over. Amy was ashamed to admit that she had forgotten about Gus until he was standing in front of her. That had been Buzz's idea, according to Mike. If the boy was upset that he was not told that his boyfriend was hurt sooner, he wasn't showing it.

Flynn's phone vibrated again. It was sitting on the seat cushion of the chair on his other side, beside the clothes that he had yet to change in to. He reached for it automatically. He was expecting another text from Emily, but found one from Ricky instead. He honestly could not find it within himself to get frustrated with the girl. She was a few thousand miles away, cut off from the rest of her family and left waiting alone while the hours ticked by until her flight would leave. He only wished that he had more to tell her than _not yet_. Her mother and brother had not been in surgery for long, although it felt like hours. All that any of them could do was wait.

"Ricky's flight is on final descent," Andy reported. "He'll be on the ground in twenty minutes."

"I'll let Coop know," Amy replied, her way of reminding him that they had someone waiting. She wasn't entirely sure how much information he was absorbing at the moment.

"Alright." Andy replied to the text, letting the older son know that someone was waiting for him. When the kid immediately followed up by asking how his family was, Andy sighed. He had no more information than when Ricky had boarded his plane.

"Raydor."

The name, when it came, was voiced at the entrance to the waiting room. Andy's head snapped up so quickly that his neck popped. He moved for the first time since seating himself in the hard, barely cushioned chair, and strode toward the scrub-clad figure. He ignored the ache in his arm and hip and scowled at the young, blond woman in front of him. "Yes. How is she?"

The young doctor looked at the three people who had moved to stand in front of her. Her gaze swept over them before settling on the older man. "Are you family?" The older man's eyes narrowed into an intense glare, but she simply tilted her head at him.

"Yes." He felt like snarling at her. Andy's grip on his phone tightened and his stance shifted a bit.

The young woman nodded. "I'm Doctor Miller. I am the surgical resident assigned to your wife's case. My attending is still with her. We haven't finished operating yet, but we wanted to give you an update. We believe your wife was hit by a ricochet." Her arm lifted and she held up an X-RAY film. Doctor Miller turned and lifted it so that it was in view of the overhead lights. "The bullet entered here," She pointed to a spot just below the shoulder, "but it lodged itself in the scapula." Her finger circled an area of bone where a small, white object was lit up. "Normally the force of a gunshot would break the bone and a bullet's trajectory would continue forward, or in worse cases, it changes and we have serious organ damage. Since the bone was able to stop the bullet, we believe it wasn't a direct hit. Bullet trajectory was already changed."

Andy didn't bother to correct her about the subject of his marital status, or lack there of, and when Amy didn't either, he folded his arms across his chest and frowned at the woman. "Then she's okay?" Those were the words that he wanted to hear, but so far, had not been spoken. He cared less about the medical jargon and more about Sharon's condition.

"For the moment," the doctor replied, "She is stable. We do have quite a bit of vascular and muscle repair to do. This isn't going to be a quick process. We are looking at another two hours, at least. I will be back to update you again as soon as I know more, but yes. If she continues to do as well as she is now, I think that your wife will be just fine."

He shifted, and Amy thought that he might have staggered. She laid a hand on the Lieutenant's arm as she stepped forward. "What about her son?" Her brows lifted in askance. "Russell Beck. He was brought in too. They're both in surgery."

"I don't have that information," The doctor shook her head. "When I get back inside the OR suite, I can have someone come out and update you on his condition."

Andy glanced at Gus beside him and nodded. The boy's shoulders had slumped. "Yeah," he sighed. "Thanks doc." He would feel better if he had news on both of them, but he could wait a few more minutes before he pulled his badge and Sykes's gun and started demanding answers. Andy turned to Amy and held up his phone. "I'll let Em and Rick know."

"I'll call the Lieutenant back," Amy said. She was left standing with Gus as he moved off to talk to the Captain's kids. "I'm sure we'll know something soon," she said.

"Yeah." Gus shook his head. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "How does this even happen?" What was wrong with the world? How was it that the people who never hurt anyone kept getting hurt in return? He just didn't understand it.

"I don't know, Gus." Amy smiled sadly. "That is something that we are trying to figure out."

"When you figure it out," he asked, "what are you going to do about it?"

Amy stared back at him. She shrugged. "What we do best, Gus. Hunt them down and make them pay. Only they can decide how that ends." With bullets or handcuffs, that choice was not always theirs to make. Amy wondered if maybe the decision was already made when their suspects decided to gun down a cop and her kid. When Coop got back with the Captain's son, she would join the others. She would leave him in charge of the situation at the hospital. The Captain's family would be in good hands with him. Amy felt like it was the rest of the family that needed her most. She wanted to be with them when they got those responsible for the shooting.

In the meantime, Amy led Gus back to the row of chairs they were previously occupying. She waited for the Lieutenant to get off the phone and reminded him again that he could go and change. He ignored her, again, but Amy kept trying. She didn't think he would leave the waiting room, even for a few minutes, until they knew something about Rusty. Amy decided she would give it a little while longer. If he had not changed by the time Coop replied, letting her know that he had Ricky, she would use that as her bargaining tool. It might be a low blow, but Amy would do what she needed to do. It was what they always did. After all, Flynn didn't want to greet his girlfriend's kids wearing clothes that were stained with her blood.

 **-TBC-**


	12. Chapter 12

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

The interview room was silent. The minutes were ticking by; it was going on five minutes since the officers had taken their seats. Detective Ryan Fiess sat staring at them. When nothing was said, he shifted where he sat. They were staring at him, as if waiting for him to make a move, or offer some piece of information. They had sent him to a jail cell just a couple of hours before, and as he saw it; there was no reason to pull him out again. He hadn't given them anything, and he wasn't planning on it now. So the big question was, what did they want?

Lieutenant Provenza slanted a discreet, sideways look at the Detective beside him. Julio remained silent and unmoving. He had agreed to let the other man lead the interrogation, mainly because the Julio had a way of getting answers out of the difficult perps. This wasn't going to be much different, but he also thought that Sanchez would be able to put voice to what they all wanted to say, in his own unique and _Scary Sanchez_ way. When he only sat there and didn't speak, Provenza had to wonder what he was doing. Only the ticking of the other man's jaw indicated that he was still present in the moment. Still, time was passing, and it was not time that they had to waste. Whatever he was up to, he was going to need to say something soon.

He could sense that the Lieutenant was getting ready to intervene. Julio waited until the last possible moment. When he felt the older man shift in the seat beside him and lean forward slightly, his head tilted. "I knew that you were stupid," Sanchez said quietly, while his gaze never left Fiess, "but I didn't know that you were dumb." He leaned forward slowly and his gaze darkened as he stared harder at the other detective. "Did you really think that we would overlook that?"

Fiess looked between the two. The old guy was watching him curiously, but Sanchez was fuming. His glare was all anger and darkness, and the promise of pain if he didn't answer in just the way that he wanted. Fiess's eyes narrowed. "Miss what?" He shrugged at them. "You've got nothing to miss. I told you before. I don't know what you're talking about."

Julio's hands moved. He placed a folder on the table and slid it slowly forward. "You know exactly what we are talking about, because when you got booked in, you were allowed to make one phone call. You didn't call your lawyer because your union rep already did that for you. You called someone else, didn't you Ryan?" He tapped the folder that lay on the table between them. "When you make arrangements to have someone shot, asshole, you should make sure that the gun used doesn't come back to a case that you worked." He watched the other Detective's eyes widen and grinned. "Oh yeah. Didn't know that did you? The goons that you called, the ones that you asked to take care of your little problem, they screwed up man. Better than that, we now have you on evidence tampering too. You're the only one who has signed the logs on that gun. Guess what, you signed it out, then you signed it back in. Here's the thing, the gun you put back in to evidence, isn't the same gun. We already checked. Your idiot friends used it."

"I don't know what—"

His hand slammed against the table with enough force to rattle it. The sound it made echoed through the room, making even those in the electronics room jump. Julio leaned forward. "Don't tell me that you don't know what I'm talking about," he said slowly, "because the bullets that came out of that gun, landed in my Captain." Fiess shifted in his seat and looked nervously around the room. Julio's smile was slow, and it was mean. "Oh yeah dumbass. We already got one. Doctor pulled it out of her half an hour ago. Guess what, it matches the bullets in her car. Your pals screwed up man. Not only did they use a gun that you got out of evidence for them, and not only did they _not_ kill her, they shot her kid too." Julio rose from his chair to lean even farther over the table. "The last time her kid was in danger, you know what happened? You have to know. Everyone knows man. She brought the whole LAPD down on that asshole's head. Guess that makes you the asshole this time, doesn't it?" Julio shook his head. "Big mistake," he whispered, "huge mistake. Bet you're really wishing you had just killed her yourself…"

Detective Fiess shoved at the table. He pushed back from it with enough force that the chair he was seated in was sent toppling backward. "If that bitch," he snarled, "had just kept her nose out of all of this, none of that would have happened!"

While two uniformed officers moved in to the room to help contain the Detective, Julio slowly reclaimed his seat. He picked up his file folder and settled back in it. "Yeah, but if you hadn't been such a coward, you wouldn't be going away for the rest of your life. Murder, attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, evidence tampering," he looked to his right, where the Lieutenant still sat. "With consecutive sentences he will never see a parole hearing."

"Nope." That was not at all how he had expected it to go down. Provenza was having a hard time containing his smile. He just inclined his head and stared at the still standing Fiess. "But if the Detective would like to talk to us now, I think we might be able to work something out with our friend DDA Hobbs. What do you think?"

"I think she might be willing to chat." Julio shrugged. "It's hard to say. She's really fond of Rusty. She might be in a bad mood."

Provenza winced. "That could be bad for Ryan," he nodded to the Detective. "When Hobbs ain't happy, ain't no body happy," he drawled. He shared a look with Julio before they both turned their gazes back on Fiess. "What is it going to be?"

The Detective pointed a finger at them. "I want my lawyer," he said. He shook his head. "Then I want Hobbs. You can't make a deal with me. You don't have the authority. I'll talk to Hobbs. Only Hobbs," he spat. "You assholes aren't going to stack the deck."

"You already did that yourself." Julio stood up and walked to the door. He opened it and the DDA stepped into the room.

"This is how it's going to work, Detective," Hobbs moved over to stand just behind the Lieutenant. "You will give these officers all of the answers that they would like to have, and I will talk to my boss about allowing you to plea to a single life sentence. Refuse, and we go to trial. With the evidence that I have, it won't be hard at all to file for Murder One, with Special Circumstances."

"No way." Fiess shook his head. "I want the deal that you offered earlier. Murder Two, twenty-five to life."

"That deal went away when you decided to try and have Captain Raydor killed on her way home," Hobbs told him. "Murder One, life in prison. That is the only thing that I have on the table right now. It's going away in five seconds unless you tell these gentlemen who you contacted to do the actual shooting." Her brow arched and her head inclined. "You're responsible for the death of two police officers, the shooting of a third, the injury of her son, and that doesn't include the minor injury of yet another police officer. I haven't spoken to him yet, but I have a feeling Lieutenant Flynn will probably want to press charges. There isn't a judge in this state that would give you bail under those circumstances. You'll be waiting in county for the trial. I'm not sure if you've heard or not, but we're having a population issue there. I simply cannot guarantee that we will be able to keep you separated from the general population." She waited a beat and crossed her arms across her chest. "Your deal is ticking away, Detective. You have four seconds left. Three…"

"You can't do that." Fiess smirked at her. "It's illegal. Not to mention it's against the regs. I could have all their badges," he waved at the two detectives on the other side of the table. "It's the Johnson Rule. Something I think that they're pretty damned familiar with."

"Actually it isn't." Hobbs's lips pursed. "You haven't given me any reason to believe that you would be in any specific danger. Are there persons in county that might think you pose a significant danger to them?" Her gaze never wavered. "Two seconds… when the clock stops ticking, I walk out the door and the next time you will see me is at trial."

Julio clasped his hands together. "I would listen to her," he said quietly. "What do you think all the gang bangers in county are going to do when rumor gets around that you were helping their rivals? But all we have is suspicion right? We don't have any real proof…"

The moment he was placed in County lockup he would be a target. Detective Fiess ran a hand through his hair. The DDA had counted down to one and was beginning to turn away. "Okay. Alright. Fine! I'll give you the names, but you can't put me in general population. That will get me killed and you know it."

Provenza placed a notepad and a pen on the table and slid them across it. "You know what to do," he said. "Write it all down."

"After you repeat it all in front of a judge," Hobbs said, "we will see to it that you are transferred to a secure cell."

They waited for him to pick up the pen and begin writing before Provenza and Sanchez stood. They would leave the Detective in the care of the two uniformed officers while he wrote his statement down. In the hall, the Lieutenant shook his head. "What the hell was that?"

Julio shrugged. "Captain doesn't like it when I beat the crap out of people."

Provenza watched him turn and start walking down the hall. "Where are you going?"

"Hospital," he called back. "I told Amy that I would trade places with her for the arrest. Captain doesn't like it when I shoot people either."

When he looked at her, Andrea shrugged. "He's not wrong." She folded her arms across her chest again. "Is the Lieutenant still there by himself?"

"No." Provenza sighed. "Gus is there, and the Captain's son arrived a little while ago." He looked at his watch. "Her daughter's plane was supposed to take off fifteen minutes ago. She should be in the air now, or any minute now. I sent Patrice over earlier, I thought they might need a translator for all that medical mumbo-jumbo crap that everyone is throwing at them."

"Rusty?" Andrea hadn't asked for an update when she arrived. She hadn't wanted to go into the interrogation room with that on her mind, in case the update wasn't great.

"Still in surgery." Provenza ran a hand over his face. "They were trying to save his kidney. He can live without it, but he's young. Flynn told them to try. Patrice thought it was a good idea, as long as he's stable. Sharon is in recovery now, but she's going to be out of it until at least morning. Ricky is there now," he said tiredly, "he and Flynn are trying to guess at what she would tell the doctors to do." Before she could ask, Provenza snorted. "The hospital staff thinks they're married and we're allowing them to keep thinking it. The Captain has Rusty's medical power of attorney, but she's unavailable. Ricky thinks that his aunt has hers, but he hasn't been able to get in touch with her," the Lieutenant waved a hand. "It's a damned mess. Someone made the assumption that they were married and we went with it. Ricky hasn't corrected them, so…" They were biding their time and hoping that someone didn't slip up before both the Captain and Rusty were out of the woods.

"No, that makes a strange amount of sense. Someone has to make the hard calls, and Ricky is what, twenty-six? Twenty-seven? This big brother job is still very new," Andrea said. "I can imagine that he feels a lot better having back up, and besides, it's never easy the first time that we have to become responsible for our parents." She smiled sadly. "I can't imagine that it's all that easy on the Lieutenant either."

"He's an idiot." Provenza threw his hands up. "First him, then her, and the kid, and probably him again before we're done." If Flynn didn't have a heart attack, it might be a minor miracle. "They're all making me old."

"You know," Hobbs suggested, "it might not be a bad idea to let SOB handle the rest of this. They can do the arrests. You've done the hard part. Why don't you take the rest of your team down to the hospital? I'm sure that everyone will understand, including Chief Taylor, if Major Crimes chooses now to strategically step aside. In the end, it might work better at trial." She didn't imagine that they would be able to make deals with everyone. Some of them would go to trial. There would also be the media perception, the defense attorneys. In the end, it really would look better if another division was responsible for bringing in the shooters.

"I agree." Taylor strode toward them from the direction of the Murder Room. He had watched the interrogation with the rest of the team. "I'll have Chief Howard and his teams handle the rest. Your team has done enough, Lieutenant." His pushed his hands into his pockets. He was considering heading down to the hospital too. That would have to wait until the arrests were made. He would need to brief Chief Pope and talk to the press. There was still some work ahead of him. The rest of them, however, had done their best. "I already dismissed Lieutenant Tao and Buzz. Detective Sanchez was packing up to leave. Get out of here."

There was a part of him that wanted to see it done. There was another part that knew he might just shoot one of the suspects in the face if he was with the arresting team. Provenza sighed. He nodded slowly. The last few days were catching up to him. He felt old all right. Damned old, and tired. His body ached with it. "Thank you, Chief." It always chaffed to have to say those words, but this time he was beyond petty irritations. He jerked his head back toward the interview room. "Fiess is writing up his statement."

"We have it from here," Taylor assured him. "Well done, Lieutenant." He paused for a moment. "Give my best to the Captain's family. I will be along as soon as we have this wrapped up here."

"I will tell them." Provenza fought the urge to snort. Wouldn't Flynn just be tickled pink to hear that?

 **MCMCMCMCMCMC**

Within the hour they were able to fill the waiting room. Tao had gone home to his wife first and she had joined him at the hospital. They brought food for everyone, although no one was in any mood to eat. When he arrived, Provenza was told that Rusty was out of surgery. Flynn was nowhere to be found. He assumed that he had gone to sit with the Captain, but Gus explained that he was with Rusty. The young man was in surgical ICU and they were only allowing family with him until he was moved to a room. That would be happening sometime the following morning, if he did okay overnight. Gus explained that Ricky had smuggled him back for a few minutes so that he could see Rusty, but the charge nurse on duty had not bought the explanation that they were brothers. They were planning to try again after shift change.

"Ricky is with his mother," Patrice explained. She joined him at the entrance of the waiting room. "Andy saw her for a few minutes after she was moved to a room, but he went to sit with Rusty when he got out of surgery." She laid a hand against his arm and let it slide slowly downward until her hand wrapped loosely around his wrist. "They were able to save the kidney," she told him, "they're going to have to watch him for infection, and make sure that it doesn't fail, but he is young and he's strong. He should be okay." He had two of the organs, and the other was still in good working condition. Rusty could live with a single kidney. He would need to be mindful of that for the rest of his life, but he could do it, easily. Patrice had agreed, though, that they should allow the surgeon to save the organ if he could. As long as Rusty was stable and tolerating the surgery, it wasn't a problem. In the end, it seemed to work out. The next few days would be critical for him, if his kidney function remained and he didn't develop an infection, he would be out of the woods.

Provenza nodded slowly as he wrapped his head around all of that. "What about his leg?" He looked over at her. "I thought they said it was superficial?" There was a lot of information that was tossed out in those first couple of hours after the shooting. He was trying to make sense of it now, although to begin with, he had simply focused on _alive_ and left the rest for later. It was later.

"There was some minor tissue damage," she said. "They had to repair some vessels. He may be on crutches for a couple of weeks, but his leg will be just fine too."

"Rusty isn't the problem." Julio was seated nearby. He looked up at the Lieutenant. His eyes were still burning with anger. Now that he was there, and he had nothing to do, he could feel it. The problem was acting on it. That was what usually got him into trouble.

Patrice sighed quietly. "No, he really isn't." Her fingers tightened around Louie's wrist. "Sharon is doing okay, but she's probably going to need another surgery. They did what they could about the immediate danger, but her shoulder is in pretty bad shape." At his questioning look, she shrugged. "It will depend on how she heals. They will watch it, and she will have physical therapy."

"It might be a while before she's back," Provenza concluded, finishing what she didn't want to say. He shrugged. "Most of what she does is paperwork," he blustered, putting the others off and trying to keep them from worrying too much. "Anyone can do that with one good arm. It'll be fine."

The others didn't look convinced. Even Mike turned his gaze away. Provenza sighed. He understood the concern. At her age, and depending on how long it took for her to get cleared to come back, the department could just decide to retire her. It was Sharon who had prevented them from doing that to Flynn; no one would dare suggest it as long as he was reporting to her. Who was there to look out for her? None of them exactly trusted Taylor to do it. It was a worry, but one that Provenza decided to push aside until another time. They would cross that bridge when they arrived at it.

"I'm going to go and see Rusty," he decided. "We can send the idiot back to his girlfriend." He took Patrice's hand as he turned. "I would really hate to see a grown Flynn cry."

Patrice shook her head as she went with him. He was going to grumble and complain but he was worried about all of them, including his _idiot_ partner.

They were silent as they made their way down the hall to the elevator banks. Rusty was on the fifth floor. Sharon was in a room on three, but due to the severity of his surgery, Rusty had been placed in the Surgical ICU ward for close monitoring. There was a waiting room on five, but the team had already camped out on the third floor, so there they remained. Patrice had already been in to check on Rusty once; Andy had gotten her in by claiming that she was married to family. She wisely kept it to herself that he had told the nursing staff that Louie was the boy's grandfather, at least until Andy was out of the room.

Flynn was sitting exactly where Patrice had left him earlier. He was slumped in a chair next to the bed, quietly tapping his phone against his leg while he stared at the monitors that were mounted on the wall. It wasn't as if he could make heads or tails of them, but it was something to look at other than the pale young man that was lying silent on the bed. When the glass door of the small ICU room slid open, Andy sat up and turned. He stood as the other two entered the room and joined them beside the door. The nurses had said that Rusty would be unconscious for a few hours, in part due to the anesthesia, but also because of the heavy pain medication that he was on, so it was unlikely that they would disturb him, but Andy didn't want to risk it.

"Hey." He scratched his thumb across his forehead. He had changed just before Ricky arrived. The t-shirt and jeans that Cooper had gotten out of his locker was a lot more comfortable than his ruined suit. "What did you find out? Was it Fiess?" Amy had mentioned at one point that the team was leaning in that direction, but he hadn't spoken to her in a while.

"We got him." Provenza nodded. "One of the guns used tied back to a case that he worked last year. Hobbs is working on it now. Taylor turned the rest of the case over to Howard and his SOB teams. Fiess has contacts from his Gang Intel days. He's been helping out a couple of guys..." Provenza sighed and waved off the rest of the explanation. They could talk about the case later. "We've got them," he concluded. "It's done. One way or another." He looked around Flynn and nodded toward the hospital bed. "How's he doing?"

"Still stable." Andy glanced at the bed and shrugged. "They said he would be out for a while. They have him on some pretty heavy drugs." He shoved his hands into his pockets. It had been a long day, a long few days actually. Andy sighed. "If he does okay tonight, they will move him to a room on the surgical ward tomorrow. So far he's hanging in there."

He was pale, and the stark whiteness of the sheets on the bed was doing little to improve his color. He looked as though he might have been asleep, if not for the fact that his leg was in a surgical brace and propped on a foam support to keep it elevated. There was also the tubing from the IVs and the wires from the monitors to contend with. Provenza shook his head. It was a hell of a thing. How long and hard had all of them worked over the years to prevent this very thing? Yet here they stood. Rusty had been seriously injured and almost killed; and the worst part was, he should have been completely safe. That was the part that was the hardest to reconcile.

Provenza tapped the fingers of his free hand against his leg. The other continued to hold his wife's hand. He looked at his partner again and jerked his head toward the door. "Go on," he said. "Get out of here. We can keep an eye on Rusty. Go sit with Sharon."

Andy glanced back toward the bed. He seemed torn for a moment. His body seemed to lean toward the door, as though propelled there by some will that was not entirely his own. "Nah," he shook his head. "I can't leave him." The woman he loved was laying in a hospital bed of her own two floors down, but she had used her own body to shield her child, and he was the only thing that she had cared about right up until the moment that she passed out. Andy wasn't leaving that room. No matter how badly he wanted to.

"You really are an idiot." Provenza rolled his eyes at his partner. "I think we can handle babysitting an unconscious, grown adult." He waved his hand toward the door. "Go," he said again, and this time with less patience. "Rusty doesn't need all three of us keeping an eye on him. Besides, if Sharon wakes up and you're not there to tell her that he is okay, she is going to bully her way up here."

He snorted quietly. "She would do that anyway." Andy debated for another moment. Finally he sighed. "Yeah, okay. I'm going." He ran a hand over his face and into his hair. "If he wakes up…"

"Oh my god. You're turning in to an old mother hen." Provenza waved his arm at the door again. "We will call you if he wakes up. _Go_!" His partner seemed to finally catch a clue and trudged out of the room, but not without hesitating to shoot one more worried look back at the boy on the bed. "Good grief." Provenza rolled his eyes. "He's worse than she is sometimes."

Patrice shook her head at him. "Be nice," she said. "He's been through a lot today. They all have. He's doing the best that he can considering the fact that his girlfriend _and_ her son were shot, at the same time, and right before his eyes. Maybe we can cut him some slack, just this once."

"Sure." Provenza walked toward the bed. "And I'll knit him a blankie while I'm at it." There were two chairs in the room. He pulled a second one over beside the chair that Flynn had been occupying before taking a seat beside the hospital bed. He studied Rusty for a moment, the pale skin and the subtle rise and fall of his chest. Provenza slowly shook his head before asking, "how the hell did we end up here?"

It wasn't a question that he was expecting an answer to. Patrice took a seat beside him and laid a hand against the center of his back. "We can't predict the bad things that are going to happen to us, Louie. We can only try to survive them when they do."

"He's had enough," he said quietly. There had been enough bad in Rusty's short life, more than he should have had to experience. Rusty's arms were laying at his sides, hands loose and palms resting against the mattress beneath him. Provenza reached out and touched the one nearest him. The skin was cool, and he didn't move. He gave it a gentle pat before he shook his head again. "More than enough," he whispered. Rusty had been through too much and now he had almost been killed, and for what? Because some moron was pissed off that he had gotten caught doing something wrong? Getting rid of the Captain would not have stopped their case from moving forward; it was vengeance pure and simple. They had gotten it wrong though, the idiots responsible for this, and what was Rusty? Collateral damage? Just the wrong person, in the wrong place, at the wrong moment? That was hard to believe. He was a boy, sitting in a car, on his way home with his family. There was nothing simpler or more innocent than that. It was not a drug deal; this was not about a serial killer, or a case of witness intimidation. It was senseless. That was the one thing that Provenza simply could not stand, not this time. He had seen a lot of senseless crap over the years, but just maybe he had finally reached his limit.

The pressure in his chest was just too much. Provenza let his head bow. He covered his face with his free hand and took a shuddering breath. Rusty was just a boy that wanted a normal life. He wanted to go to school, to write his articles, and have friends his own age. He wanted to tease his mother and annoy her boyfriend, and probably worm his way into hamburgers for dinner. Just a boy. A twenty-year-old boy that was probably doing all of those things, complaining and laughing and being a general pain the ass, right up until the moment that the first bullet entered his body.

He might grouse and complain, shake his fist and order them all about. He may mutter sarcastically and roll his eyes every time someone made a comment about the _co-parent_ or the _grandfather_ and occasionally even the _kindly old uncle_ , but nothing would ever change or deflect from just how much he loved that kid. Patrice rubbed his back slowly. It had been a long and terrible day. She remained silent, but close by, and let him feel what he needed to feel. Whatever else he was, Rusty was family, and they'd almost lost him. Patrice didn't fool herself into thinking this reaction was only about the boy. He wouldn't admit it, and she wouldn't ask him to, but they had simply come much too close to losing all three of them.

It wasn't completely over yet, but tomorrow would be better than today. It had to be. How much more could any of them take?

 **-TBC-**


	13. Chapter 13

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

It was cold in the room. That was the first thought that managed to permeate the fog in her mind. It was the sort of cold that made the very tip of her nose sting, at least until it became slightly numb. While she was thinking of that, the cold settled into her bones. It sent a shiver along her spine from hips to shoulders, until the involuntary movement that her body made sent an ache through her right side that was so keen, so sharp that it very nearly stole her breath. Her eyes were already closed, but she clenched her lids more tightly shut while she concentrated on drawing air and letting it out slowly. She counted each breath, until the only thing that she allowed her mind to concentrate on were the sounds of her inhalations and the slow exhalation that followed. Slowly the burning pain in her right side began to recede, at least enough so that she might cast her focus elsewhere, beyond the chill that was surrounding her.

There was a low murmur of sound in the room. Immediately to her right there was the low whir and occasional hiss of a machine. Her eyes blinked open and she cast a glance toward the sound. It took a moment for her to be able to focus. Without her glasses the room was cast in a blur of colors, grays and blues. She had no concept of time, but there was light coming in through a single window that stretched across one wall. It seemed to be very early, or maybe it was very late. She couldn't tell. Sharon blinked a few times and was able to make out the shapes beside her. There was an IV stand with a digital readout, and above it, a monitor that was glowing softly in the dimly lit room. Sharon's brows drew together as she tried to recall where she was and why. Her mind wasn't quite up to par yet; there was a jumble of images and memories. It was difficult to sort through just yet. While she worked at separating each moment that made up those jumbled thoughts, her gaze moved further around the room.

With the sound of the machines she was able to pick out another sound, the low timbre of a familiar voice. It drew her attention. She found the source seated not far from her bed. There was a couch along the wall, beneath the wide window. Her eyes narrowed as she pushed her eyes to focus on the scene before her. The owner of that voice was seated to one side of it, near a chair that held another man. Andy and Ricky were speaking quietly, the two of them bent over an iPad. There was another with them, but this one was unmoving. She was curled on the bench of the sofa beside Andy, her head rested on something that looked to be a very thin and uncomfortable throw pillow. It and the pillow were propped on Andy's leg, and he seemed not to notice at all as he and her elder son continued their conversation, oblivious to the fact that they were being watched. Sharon studied Emily for a moment. The girl appeared to be sleeping soundly, or at least as well as she could given their surroundings. A familiar black, leather jacket was covering her, shielding her from the chill that had settled over the room.

Sharon closed her eyes again and sighed. The throbbing in her right side was becoming more pronounced again. It seemed to be centered in her shoulder. She tried to move, to release the pressure, but a low hum was wrought from her as the movement just made it worse.

It was the sound that drew their attention. Andy stopped speaking mid-sentence and looked toward the bed. A frown had appeared on her face, and her bottom lip was tucked between her teeth. It was a clear indication that Sharon was awake and in some amount of pain. He laid a hand on Emily's shoulder and gave it a gentle shake. The girl lifted her head, immediately awake, and pushed his jacket aside as she sat up. Andy stood first and walked toward the bed. Emily and Ricky were not far behind him. "Easy." He spoke quietly, voice rumbling softly in the otherwise quiet room. "Don't move too much." Andy reached for the call button to summon the nurse and placed his other hand against the top of her head. He swept her hair back from her face. Her right arm was in a brace, secured to her body; she wouldn't be able to move it much anyway, but he knew that the attempt would only cause her pain.

"Hm." She breathed through another wave of pain. "Too late." Her voice was thick and slightly slurred. Sharon forced her eyes open and gazed at the three people standing over her. There was one missing, however. His absence brought everything back with startling clarity. Her eyes darted to Andy and widened. "Rusty?"

Her awareness came in the stiffening of her body. His thumb stroked her temple in a simple, calming motion. "Is okay," he said immediately. "He's upstairs. Provenza and Patrice are with him."

"I checked on him a little while ago," Ricky told her. He stood at the foot of the bed. His hands rested against her feet. They were restless, something that his mother did when she was cold. "Emily." He jerked his head toward the row of cabinets behind his sister. There was a narrow closet among them. "Can you see if there is another blanket?" While his sister began opening doors until she found what she was looking for, Ricky focused on his mother. "Rusty woke up a few hours ago, but he was in some pain. They gave him something to help him rest. He seemed okay after that."

"The lady," Emily said as she unfolded a blanket and laid it over her mother's legs, "Patrice?" All of these people were unfamiliar to her. "She has been watching his vitals all night. She said that he did really good." They had discussed this before Emily had lain down to try and catch a nap. They knew that the moment she was awake Sharon would want to know about Rusty, and unless they were prepared to sit on her to keep her in bed, they would need to have answers ready.

"Hm." Sharon hummed again. The pain was pretty intense. She closed her eyes again, but they opened soon after. The door to her room swung inward with a soft click and she tried to concentrate on what was happening around her. "What happened?"

Andy ignored the question for the moment; his attention was on the nurses. "She just woke up," he told her. "She's in a lot of pain." They had known that she would be, but Andy hated seeing her like this. He hated even more that there was nothing that he could do about it.

"Okay." The nurses moved closer. One of them came to stand on Sharon's right side, while the other moved around to stand beside Andy. "Ms. Raydor, do you know where you are?" While she waited for an answer, she checked the monitors and then leaned over to ease back a corner of the woman's hospital gown. She slipped on a pair of pale, lavender gloves while waiting for an answer.

"Unfortunately." Sharon exhaled slowly. "I am a little more concerned with my son at the moment."

"I can get you an update in a few minutes." The nurse shared a look with the man on the other side of the bed. "I need to check your incision, so we're going to roll you. I won't lie, this is going to hurt, but we will give you something for that."

Andy slid around the younger of the two nurses to join Emily and Ricky at the foot of the bed. This wasn't going to be pleasant. "Why don't the two of you go check on Rusty and let everyone know that she's awake."

Ricky looked ready to protest. He gazed at his mother for a moment before he sighed. "Yeah, okay." He shared a look with his sister. Emily didn't look any happier about the thought of leaving than he did, but she nodded. It was pretty clear that whatever was about to happen wasn't going to be easy for anyone. "It's time for a coffee refill anyway," he said.

"We'll be back in a couple of minutes," Emily told her mother. "Maybe if he's awake and up to it, we can see about a facetime with Rusty," she suggested. "Then you can see how he's doing for yourself." The thought had only just occurred to her, and if it kept everyone calm and where they belonged, it didn't seem like too bad of an idea.

"We can probably make that happen," Ricky said. "The charge nurse in SICU has a crush on Gus. Bet if we smuggle him in again she will look the other way..."

Andy shook his head as the pair of them left the room. "Those two have been plotting different ways of getting around the nurses on five all night," he told Sharon. "They are definitely all yours," he added with a grin.

Sharon frowned as she braced herself for what was to come. "The nursing staff wouldn't let Gus see Rusty?" When she was finally moved, she inhaled sharply. Pain, like nothing else she recalled having felt, moved down the right side of her body. She couldn't fully contain the low moan that escaped her. Sharon closed her eyes tightly and counted her breaths until she was released.

His jaw clenched tightly. Andy gripped the footboard of the hospital bed. She had gone ashen when they moved her. He tapped his foot impatiently and watched the nurses move around the bed. They recorded her vitals and other notes on the tablet that one of them had brought, and finally, just as he was getting ready to say something, the younger of the pair injected something into her IV. Morphine, and he hoped that it would kick in quickly.

"Yeah," his voice was thick and gruff when he spoke again. "They had Rusty in ICU over night so that they could keep an eye on him. They're going to move him to a room today, but it was family only up there. The day nurses didn't believe that Gus was his brother, so we waited until after shift change. Ricky got him in for a little while by making the night shift crew think that he was mine. Then Emily got here and let it slip that we aren't married." She frowned at that, and Andy wasn't sure if she really understood anything that he was saying at this point. When the nurses withdrew from the room, he moved alongside her bed again. He sat carefully on the edge of the mattress on her left side and reached up to sweep a lock of hair away from her face. "Hey."

"Hm." She was trying to focus on the sound of his voice and not the pain in her shoulder, but it was difficult. "It's all a little fuzzy," she managed, "but I am pretty sure that I would remember if we were married." Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up at him. He was looking back at her with an expression of such worry that she wanted to be able to reassure him, but couldn't find the energy just yet to do more than lift her good arm and wrap her hand around his wrist. Her thumb moved beneath the gold chain of his bracelet in a slow caress.

"Well, being stuck with me is what you get," he managed in a softer voice, "for leaving us all unsupervised all night." Andy gave her a small smile. "The doctors just assumed that we were married, and since Ricky wasn't here, and Emily was having a hard time getting here, and neither of them was all that sure who had your medical power of attorney, we went with it." He shrugged, just a little sheepishly and added, "It didn't seem like a bad idea, at least until we could get your kids here and let them weigh in on everything. Then there was Rusty, and it was just a hell of a night. It's over now."

"I'm sorry." Most of her memories were coming back, and although she was beginning to feel that odd weightlessness that came as a side effect of the narcotic pain reliever, Sharon was able to realize just how difficult a position he must have been in. Her eyes started to close again, but she caught sight of the bandage that was only just barely visible beneath the short sleeve of his t-shirt. Her good arm moved again and her fingers brushed gently over the area. "Andy..." She hadn't realized that he had been hurt too, not until that moment.

His gaze followed her hand. Andy shook his head as he captured it. He brought her fingers to his lips. "Just a scratch," he promised. "Everyone is okay, Sharon." He knew that she would want more information about Rusty, but it could wait until she was better able to wrap her mind around it. She was already fading. Andy could tell that the morphine was beginning to do its job. He held her hand in his and stroked her cheek with the other. "Rest. We can talk about everything later."

The darkness that was closing in on her seemed entirely too blissful to ignore. Sharon nodded silently. If he promised her that Rusty was okay, she would believe him. She could trust him, with everything that she had, her child and her heart.

When Sharon woke up again it seemed as though a lot more time had passed. The room was bathed in more light, again from the window on the far side. It had been very early, she realized, when she woke the first time. Now it seemed to be well into the afternoon, if the sunlight spilling in to her room was any indication. Waking was a little easier this time, she was more aware of her surroundings, and as she concentrated on how her body was feeling, she was aware of less pain. She still felt very groggy, and her right shoulder was aching terribly, but this was not the sharp throbbing that she had initially felt that morning.

Sharon was more careful in her movements this time. She had learned that lesson this morning, and there was much more that she wanted to know before the next dose of pain medication put her under again. Sharon looked around the room, and this time she found only Emily present. Her daughter was curled in the chair near her bed and seemed to be quietly reading something on the iPad. Sharon watched her for a moment. Emily was wrapped in a sweater. Her usually trendy and impeccably dressed girl had her hair pulled into a messy ponytail and appeared to be perfectly comfortable in a pair of leggings and UGGs. Sharon wanted to laugh a bit. That look was a far cry from her Manhattan style. "What time is it?" She asked instead.

Emily's head snapped up. She blinked once before a smile curved her lips. She closed the case on the iPad and put it aside as she stood up to move closer to the bed. "Hey." Emily sat on the edge of the bed and took her mother's hand. "It's almost two in the afternoon. How are you feeling?"

"Not great," she admitted, "but better than this morning." Sharon closed her eyes again for a moment. "Emily, I can't see a thing."

The younger woman laughed quietly. "No, I guess you can't." She stood up again and walked over to open her bag, which was sitting on the small sofa. She had placed her mother's personal items in it, her glasses and jewelry. The clothes were ruined, but had been taken for evidence. She pulled a case from one of the outside pockets and snapped it open. Emily carried the glasses back over and settled them on her mother's face. "Better?"

"Much." She blinked to clear her vision as it suddenly came back in to focus. Her gaze swept the room again before settling back on her eldest child. "Where is everyone?"

Emily eased back down onto the edge of the bed. "Ricky went to the condo to take a quick shower and change clothes. He's going to bring back some things for you and Rusty, so that you'll be a little more comfortable while you're here." She smiled again. "You will be glad to know that baby brother is out of the ICU and in a real room. They got him settled a couple of hours ago. Andy went up to sit with him so that the Lieutenant and his wife could go home and get some rest. They will be back this evening. Actually, Andy will probably be back soon too. He sent Gus home to get cleaned up, but he should be returning shortly." She studied her mother closely for moment. "Do you need me to get the nurse?"

"Not yet." They would have to do that soon, but Sharon was okay for the moment. She did not want to be poked, prodded, or moved just yet. She turned her hand over in Emily's and gave it a squeeze. "You look tired, darling. You should go home and get some rest too. When did you get here?"

"Last night." Emily shook her head at her mother. "I'm okay. I'll run home and get a shower when Ricky gets back. Don't worry about us, Mom. You're the one in the hospital." Emily looked down as a frown drew her brows together. She took a breath and let it out slowly. "You scared us," she admitted quietly.

"Emily." She sighed softly. "I think I scared myself this time." She gave her daughter's hand a squeeze. She could imagine well how her girl must have felt, the not knowing, and the disconnect that came from being so far away.

Emily shook her head. She laughed, and tried to brush it aside. All of her worry and the fear, it had settled inside of her like a chill. She had gone out earlier; to stand in the sun, but it hadn't helped much. Talking with her mother did, but getting over the previous evening's panic would not be a simple process. Emily's eyes stung with tears that she quickly blinked away. When she looked up again, their hazel depths were shining brightly with emotion. "I think that I might have driven the boyfriend crazy. I must have sent a hundred texts, and made at least a dozen calls, asking for updates while I waited for my plane to board. I thought that you dating would be weird," she admitted. Emily's nose wrinkled as she said it. "I couldn't seem to get my head around it, you know? I mean, my whole life everything was… well, it was the way that it was. Then all of a sudden everything changed. There was Rusty, and then you got divorced, and now this dating thing. It all sounded so odd, even when Rusty would tell us how things were going, or when Dad would complain, it was just so weird. Not in a bad way," Emily was quick to add when her mother frowned at her, "I think that I just could not imagine it. I knew that you had this relationship and that it was important, and I remembered you being friends with Andy from before. I don't know him well, but he seemed very nice on the occasions that I met him. I won't lie, everything that Dad told us about him isn't great, but that's Dad." She rolled her eyes. Emily knew to take everything that Jack said with a grain of salt, but it wasn't always easy. She had been raised to respect her parents, even the one that was absent and of questionable character. "Even after Andy called me yesterday, I wasn't really thinking of him in those terms," she continued. "When I got here…" Emily looked into her mother's eyes. A smile was playing at the corners of her mouth. "Where did you find him?" Her eyes were sparkling. Emily shook her head. "This isn't just a middle-aged, post-divorce fling is it?"

The question drew a surprised laugh from Sharon, which only made her groan and wince in pain. She closed her eyes and hummed while she waited for the wave of pain to recede. After a moment, when she was no longer seeing spots, Sharon shook her head. She returned her daughter's gaze and offered her a soft smile. "No," she answered. "It isn't that at all. We were, actually no that isn't right, we _are_ very good friends," Sharon explained. "We just both came to realize that the potential for more was there too. We've had to be very careful in how we approached this _dating thing_ ," Sharon smiled again. The way that her children viewed and described her personal life never ceased to amuse her. "We didn't want to jeopardize our working relationship, but at the same time, we already had something infinitely precious and we didn't want to ruin that either. I would rather have him in my life as my very dear friend and never know what else we might be together than to risk losing him. It was easier to take this chance when I knew that he felt the same way. So no, Emily, this couldn't be any farther from a fling."

"I like him." Emily knew that her mother didn't need her approval. She hadn't asked for it, and never would, but she thought it needed to be said."

"So do I." Sharon smiled again. "He is pretty fantastic."

There was something a little bit giddy in the way that her mother said that. It made Emily laugh, a quiet and musical sound that filled the room and made it seem a little brighter. "Well, Ricky and I decided that we're keeping him. Even if you end up tossing him away, we want him." Her eyes twinkled with amusement. "When we got here last night we were expecting chaos, but there wasn't any. He handled everything and only expected us to worry about you. Maybe that's terrible, and maybe we should have taken over, but we didn't have to." Her head inclined. Emily added, "and he wrote everything down for us. Who does that?"

Sharon's eyes closed. She smiled, and it was just a little bit wistful as she was reminded of another time when he done the same thing. It wasn't so long ago, and although she had been terribly worried about him at the time, now she could look back on that specific moment a little fondly. "Andy does. He was terrified that he might miss some important fact that you would need. It might also be from years of dealing with me. He knows that I deal better when I have facts to concentrate on." Sharon frowned. The ache in her shoulder was beginning to worsen. The pain was radiating down her back. She really did need to get up and move. "Emily, can you get the nurse now? I think it's time."

Before she could stand up, the door to her mother's room opened, even as a soft knock sounded. Emily watched her mother's gaze move toward the sound and didn't have to look to know who it was. Her mother's eyes lit up, and a smile appeared. Emily followed her gaze and sure enough, there was Andy. He had poked his silver head inside the room and was gazing back at her mother just as fondly. "Yeah, I think I can do that." Emily stood and moved toward the door. She paused there for a moment as Andy pushed it open and stood to the side so that she could slide past him. "She just woke up," Emily told him. "I'll let the nurse know." She would do what she could to give them a couple of minutes alone.

"Great." Andy waited for Emily to step out of the room before he moved further into it. He pulled the door closed behind him and walked over to take a seat beside her bed. He pulled the chair as close as he could. "How are you doing?"

"Better." At least at the moment it still wasn't hurting as badly as it had that morning. "How is Rusty?" His fingers wrapped around her hand and she concentrated on the warmth of his grip.

"He's in some pain, but he's doing okay. He was shot in the leg, and the side. They fixed the leg, it was mostly muscle damage. It will be okay in a few weeks. The bullet in his side did some damage to his kidney and a couple of vessels. They were able to save the kidney, but they're watching him pretty close for infection. He's young and healthy, though. Patrice says he's doing great. I trust her more than I trust the other guys. She's keeping an eye on his vitals and his chart. She can probably explain all of it better than I can, but if she says he's going to be okay, I believe her."

Sharon closed her eyes against the sting of tears. She really hoped to spare Rusty this, but it could have been so much worse. "So do I," she replied. She would talk to Patrice later, when there was more time. Like Andy, though, if the other woman said that everything would be okay, Sharon would be able to accept it. She had been such a godsend to them when Andy was injured. It was easy to see why Lieutenant Provenza loved her so much.

Andy's thumb stroked the back of her hand. Her color was better. She didn't look nearly as pale as she had that morning. She was still holding herself stiffly, however, and he could tell that she was hurting. "We spoke to Taylor this morning. He dropped by to check on everyone. Howard's people got them, Sharon. Fiess told us everything he knew yesterday, and SOB went after them. It's over. We've got them all." From the Elliot murder to the crime operation that was going on inside the LAPD with those responsible, they had made the arrests that they needed to. There was still going to be some cleanup that had to be done, but that was over their heads. They had closed their part of the case.

She was silent for a moment. Sharon took a breath and let it out slowly. "So it was Fiess who arranged the shooting?"

"Yeah." Andy shrugged. "With contacts that he made while he was working Gang Intel. He's going away for it too. Murder One and a life sentence. The downside is that we will have to protect the son of a bitch, but we got him."

Sharon's gaze dropped to their joined hands. She was silent while she studied them; it amazed her how small and pale her hand seemed by comparison. "You took care of Rusty," she said quietly. "I asked you to choose, and I know that it was difficult, but you did it, and…"

"Hey." Andy leaned forward. He reached over and tipped her face up. "It wasn't that hard." It was a lie and from the way that Sharon smiled at him, he knew that she was fully aware of the fact that he was lying through his teeth. Andy shook his head and leaned over. He was careful as he laid his head on her stomach. He gazed up at her. It was as close to holding her as he could get without risking that he would hurt her. "I love you."

She pulled her hand out of his grasp and laid it against the back of his head. Her fingers combed gently through his hair. Those silver locks that she loved so much were in such disarray, probably from his having run his hands through it so many times. That was something that he did when he was especially worried or upset. "I love you," she whispered back. When he reached up and took her hand again, only to bring it to his lips, she closed her eyes. A smile curved her lips. The idea of being without him now seemed so unfathomable to her. Emily was amazed at how well he had taken care of them all, but Sharon found it completely unsurprising. She trusted him with her life, her whole life, and not just her physical wellbeing. Her children were just as important a part of that life as was her ability to keep breathing on this earth. She took a thin, shuddering breath. "I need to see Rusty."

"I know." He turned his face into her stomach and pressed a gentle kiss there before he lifted his head again. "Gus is back. I was going to give them a couple of minutes alone. I told him I would see if you were up to it, and we would do a facetime. They don't want Rusty moving around too much yet. He can't come to you, and you can't go to him, so we'll do the best we can." He would always be haunted by the sight of her covering her child's body to protect him, but it was also something that Andy had always known would happen. Sharon would put herself between Rusty and danger, and all he would be able to do is pray for the best and mitigate the damage.

There was a darkness in his eyes that worried her a little. "Andy, have you left at all yet?" Emily hadn't mentioned it and somehow it wouldn't surprise her if Andy had been at the hospital all night and day without even a thought to himself.

"I'm fine." He gave her hand a squeeze and stood up. He shifted over to sit on the edge of her bed. "Sharon don't worry about me. When Rick gets back, I'm going to send Emily home. I'll go get cleaned up after she gets back." He would hit a meeting on the return trip. "By then Provenza and Patrice should be here, so I'll have a little time to take care of some things. Okay?"

"Okay." Sharon shook her head at him. "You know, telling me not to worry about you is a little bit like me expecting you to not worry about us. It isn't going to happen." She was smiling fondly at him but her gaze moved to her shoulder. "How bad is it?"

He sighed. His thumb stroked the curve of her cheek. "The doctor said he doesn't see any reason you won't get full function back. The bullet hit the bone, but your shoulder is still pretty tore up. SID backed up what the surgeon thought, that it was a ricochet. You might need another surgery," he explained, "but it's going to depend on how it heals. Sharon, I…" Andy shrugged. "I don't know how long, or…" How was he supposed to tell her that this might be it? That her career might be done for? "Taylor isn't worried. He said we could cover, that you would come back when you came back, but…"

"Taylor says a lot of things." She let her gaze drift away for a moment. Sharon understood what he was trying to say. "It was worth it. Andy, whatever happens, it was worth it."

"Yeah." That was something that he could understand. "I know. You would do it again. It's okay. We'll figure it out." His only regret was that he hadn't been able to move faster, but Andy knew that he couldn't dwell on that. If being sober had taught him anything, it was how to not focus on the things that he couldn't change. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

She hummed. "We?" Her lips curved against his. She always enjoyed the sound of that. It filled her with such warmth, and such joy. She never imagined that she would want to be part of a unit again; she had worked so hard to disentangle herself from Jack during the long years of their separation that she believed she would want to maintain her autonomy. That wasn't true, though. Every day she was finding that she liked being part of a partnership, this partnership.

"Yep." He nuzzled her cheek and kissed the corner of her mouth before he lifted his head. "Look on the bright side, maybe the NFL will come sniffing around again."

She snorted quietly. "Oh honey, you are never letting the loss of those tickets go, are you?"

"The Rams come home to LA and you pass up season tickets?" Andy rolled his eyes and feigned an aggrieved look. He was, and always would be, a Giants man, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease her about the office she would have had on site with their home team. "You're lucky that I love you."

"I know." She cupped his cheek in her left hand and returned his teasing smile. He hadn't wanted her to go, and he was relieved when she turned that job down, but Sharon enjoyed teasing him about it too. There was a soft knock on the door. Sharon tapped his nose and gave him a wink before her attention shifted away. Emily had returned with the nurse. What was going to come was going to be unpleasant, but she focused on what lay beyond that. She needed to see Rusty, and she had her older children home, and then there was this man that she adored who was taking care of all of them.

Sharon made a mental note to speak with Emily again before her next dose of pain medication put her under. She would send Emily to Lieutenant Provenza as soon as he returned. Andy had promised to take care of himself, but Sharon decided that it wouldn't hurt if there was someone to make sure that he did. Besides, their resident _Flynnsitter_ was out of commission. Maybe having Andy to fuss at would be good for the Lieutenant too; Sharon figured he must be just as worried about Rusty as she was. It would be good for him, and she would feel better knowing that Andy was taken care of too.

 **-TBC-**


	14. Chapter 14

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

Everything hurt, from the terrible pain in his leg and the way that it ached all the way to his toes, to the throbbing in his side. Every time that he woke up it was to pain. It was getting better each time, but there was a part of him that just wanted to sleep until everything was healed again. This last time that he woke up, he also felt really gross. Rusty complained about that until they let him get up and take a shower.

That was an experience that he hoped to never have to repeat, ever, but even though he ended up sitting in the shower stall while his brother helped him get cleaned up, Rusty felt better. His hair was washed and he was in his own pajamas. It made the fact that everything hurt seem not so bad. Although the fact that his brother had to help him was still a little awkward; he could argue that it was awkward to have anyone helping him in the shower, but he guessed that was better than the alternative. He hadn't wanted some nurse that he didn't know, and the simple fact was that he and Gus just weren't that close yet. He liked him, he liked him _a lot_ , and they were getting closer all the time, but they just weren't _there_ yet. He was really glad that Gus seemed to have felt the same way, because he had offered to get out of Rusty's way and go get food for everyone.

Now Rusty was back in his bed, and although he hurt all over, he could deal with it. He had a burger from his favorite restaurant, fixed exactly the way that he liked it, and the chili cheese curly fries that he simply could not live without. His hair was clean, he had his favorite t-shirt on, and his laptop was set up on the table in front of him. His food sat to one side, mostly untouched and not from a lack of desire. There was something else that Rusty really wanted to do, and he couldn't believe that the sun was already going down and they were just getting to this.

His heart was pounding in his chest. His stomach was dancing a little bit. He was almost wiggling in the bed, and he might have, if not for the pain in his side and the ache in his leg. He ignored all of that, though, while he waited for the video-call on his laptop to go through. The moment that it did, and his screen lit up, a smile curved his face.

"Hi mom." Rusty felt a little bit like crying, but that wasn't something that he ever did in front of people. His brother and his boyfriend would be no exception. After his shower Ricky had stayed with him while they waited for Gus to get back. Now that his boyfriend was there, the three of them were just hanging out. Or make that four of them now, and however many people were in his mother's room.

"Rusty." She was just a little breathless. They had finally managed to have the two of them awake at the same moment, and neither in so much pain that they couldn't consider a simple conversation. She touched the screen of the iPad and drew her bottom lip between her teeth. He was pale. There were dark circles beneath his eyes. He was smiling brightly at her, however, and his hair was mussed and damp. He was in clean clothes and he seemed to be more or less okay.

"Oh god, don't cry." He could take anything but that. It always killed him. From the way that her voice hitched and the fact that she was blinking rapidly and looking up, he knew that it was coming. "Please don't cry. I'm okay. I promise." Rusty cast a desperate look at the other two boys in the room. "She's going to cry."

"Probably." Ricky shrugged.

"Definitely," Gus answered.

"It's a mom thing," Ricky told him. "Just give the old girl a few minutes. It will be fine."

"You were shot," Gus reminded him. "My mom cried when I broke my leg when I was five. Getting shot is on a whole different level. It's probably going to be ugly crying."

Rusty moaned quietly. "Oh god."

"Richard William Raydor." Sharon swept her fingers beneath her eyes and scowled at the tablet's screen. She couldn't see her eldest son, but she could hear him perfectly well. "Stop trying to make your brother feel worse."

"What?" Ricky's jaw dropped open. He looked at Gus. "I told him it would be fine. You're the one that said it was going to be bad."

Gus flashed a wide, cheerful grin at him. "Your mom likes me better."

"Obviously." Ricky slumped in his seat with a scowl. "Gee, thanks a lot mom. What are you going to do, adopt him too?"

"Hmm…"

She actually looked a little contemplative. Rusty laughed, but grabbed his side and groaned when the action caused him more pain. "I think I should be the one upset. You look a lot worse than I do." He frowned at his screen. "Are you okay?"

"It's worse than it looks," Sharon lied. It hurt terribly and she didn't like what the doctor said when he was in to see her earlier. Rusty didn't need to know about all of that, though. A second surgery was still only a possibility. She smiled instead and shook her head. "I think it will be just fine. It was really only a flesh wound. I am more worried about you," she said. "Oh Rusty…"

"So what happened?" He quickly cut her off when she started to get emotional again. That was the last thing that Rusty wanted, even if right now they both had a right to be, he still hated it when Sharon was upset. He did not want her worrying about him, especially right now when she needed to be getting better too. "I keep asking, but everyone keeps saying that we will talk about it later. Lieutenant Provenza won't tell me anything, and Buzz said we could just talk about it when I feel better," Rusty sighed. "Then Andy was like _talk to your mother_ ," he said, pitching his voice low in a passable imitation.

Andy moved from where he was seated in the chair beside Sharon's bed to lean over and glare at the screen. "Hey. Watch it, Kid."

Rusty flashed a cheeky grin at him. "Oh. Hi Andy. Weren't you supposed to go home?"

"I am still working on that." Sharon gave his head a gentle shove and sent him back to his chair. "He is proving to be more stubborn than usual." She glared at the man.

Andy smirked back at her. "I don't know what you're talking about." He had gone home and taken a shower. He had stopped and picked up something to eat for both of them, and had even managed to go to a meeting. He had done everything that he told her that he was going to do.

"So the Provenza thing didn't work?" Rusty shook his head. "He was kind of looking forward to it. He was a little excited after Emily talked to him. It was almost scary."

"Yeah." Andy pointed a finger at Sharon. "Remind us to talk about that."

"Yes of course," she flashed a sweet smile at him. "I will be absolutely thrilled to have that discussion with you, Andrew."

She simpered in a way that made Gus and Ricky laugh. Rusty let his head fall back. "Oh man. They are so married." He sighed. "Okay, fine, can you flirt with the so-called stepdad later? I have questions."

"No, no," Ricky said. "Don't stop them. We want to see this." He leaned forward in his chair. His dark eyes were sparkling with mischief.

"Well, hear it, actually," Gus pointed out. They couldn't see the laptop's screen from where they were seated. "They are actually pretty amusing when they really get going," he told Ricky. "When my apartment building was being fumigated a few weeks ago, the Lieutenant let me crash at his place for a couple of nights… and she didn't know I was there," he pointed at the laptop to indicate which _she_ he was talking about. "That was interesting."

Ricky's brows climbed into his hairline. "Oh really?" He sat up in his chair and looked as if he might just begin to bounce with glee. "I want to hear all about this."

"Guys, come on." Rusty made a face at them. "We don't have long. One or both of us is going to need some meds soon, and that means we'll pass out. I would really like to find out what is going on, and since no one else will tell me…" He waved his hand at the computer. "Can we play _torture mom_ another time?"

Gus and Ricky shared a look. The two of them had a lot of time to spend together while Rusty was in surgery and later unconscious. They were close to the same age and while they did not have a lot in common, they shared some similar interests. What they did have in common, however, was this family. Once Gus had convinced Ricky that he cared about Rusty a lot, getting along with the other young man had been easy. Whatever happened between him and Rusty, Gus was always going to feel a bond with these people, because of his sister and how they had taken care of her after her murder. Ricky couldn't understand all of that, not in the literal sense, but he had a sister, and he had a brother, and he knew what it felt like to worry about them and only want the best.

As one the two of them stood up. They walked over to Rusty's bed and flanked it. They were careful as they sat down on each side of him, effectively wedging him between them, all without managing to hurt him. Ricky flashed a wide grin that was all trouble. "Hi mom."

Gus's dark eyes were sparkling. He was smiling just as brightly. "Hi mom."

Rusty's head fell back again. "Oh god."

Sharon slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. She cleared her throat and tried to look serious. "Boys." It was failing miserably; she knew that in the way that they just kept smirking at her. There was also the very loud laughter that was coming from her left. Sharon slanted a look at Andy and snapped her fingers at him. "Stop that," she hissed.

He shook his head and leaned forward. Andy covered his face with his hand and continued to laugh. "He's screwed now."

Sharon watched Rusty lift his head and cast a horrified look at the computer screen. She sighed. "Andy…" She gave him a pointed look. "Will you please?"

He stared back at her. Andy rolled his eyes. "Go and rescue Rusty?" He sighed as he pushed himself out of his chair. The laughter was all but forgotten now. "Yeah, sure. Must be Monday," he grumbled as he walked toward the door.

She watched him go and continued to struggle to contain her smile. "Thank you, Andy," she drawled.

Ricky looked at Gus again. "Awww," he fluttered his lashes. "That is so sweet."

"It must be love," Gus replied and made a couple of cute, cupid faces.

Rusty sighed. "You get that he's coming here, right? To deal with the two of you?" He looked at his brother and then his boyfriend. "That means when he gets here he is going to find out that you brought me a burger," he said to his boyfriend, "and you got me a milkshake," he told his brother, "after the doctor said I could only have clear foods for a couple of days." He smiled widely at both boys. "So maybe you should…"

"Right!" Ricky swung off the bed and stood up quickly. "How about that vending machine."

"How about that Starbucks across the street," Gus said as he followed suit. "See ya babe."

"Bye mom," Ricky called. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

Rusty shook his head as they left. "They've known each other for all of a whole day and it's like they're twelve year olds trying to figure out how much trouble they can get into the minute that all of the adults are busy."

"Hm." Sharon chuckled quietly. She smiled fondly at her son. "Rusty, they're boys." She didn't say it to demean their gender, but rather to explain their behavior. "They also happen to be very close in age, and in my experience, when young men of similar ages and dispositions get together, things tend to happen a certain way." Her eyes were sparkling at him. "I also seem to recall a certain amount of mischief that you and your brother got into together not so long ago." A smile curved her lips and she gave him a knowing look. Ricky wasn't able to be with them for Christmas, he had joined his grandparents this year, but he had joined them for the New Year. At the time, Rusty and Gus had only just started to consider the possibility of dating, and so Rusty had neither mentioned nor introduced the other man to his brother.

"Yeah, okay." Rusty slumped a bit in the bed. He made a face at her that was not quite a sulk. "I think this is the part where I am supposed to remind you that we were making breakfast for you at the time."

"Which I would have appreciated," Sharon pointed out, "had the two of you not destroyed my kitchen in the process." It was one little food fight, but they were both adults and she was not going to allow them to forget it any time soon.

Rusty rolled his eyes at her but he was smiling. She had him on that one. They had made something of a huge mess, and one of her favorite coffee mugs had gotten broken. The set was replaced with a new one, the green ones that she seemed to like much better, but Rusty knew better than to tempt Sharon into pulling out the guilt trip as her way of reminding him that he was not always completely well behaved. "You win," he conceded. Rusty sighed. "Can we talk about what happened before someone else interrupts us? Please?"

Sharon hoped to delay that as long as possible but she nodded. "Yes, I think that we can do that." Her son had a right to know what had happened to him and why. She took breath and let it out slowly before she began the story. She knew that Rusty had some of the details of their case, but she filled him in on the others, and took him from the moment that Sergeant Elliot had died, to the arrests that were made as a result of the shooting.

While she spoke, Rusty picked at his fries. Andy showed up a few minutes into the story and took a seat near the window. He glanced at the other man after Sharon had finished. Rusty was working on wrapping his mind around everything that she said. He frowned while he thought about it. "So what happens now?"

"For all intents and purposes," Sharon said, "it's over now, Rusty. The department will have some clean up to do. There are people that are probably going to lose their jobs over all of this. There will be some restructuring along the way. I am sure there may even be a few new regulations added to the rule book." Sharon heard Andy grunt and grumble at that and could not stop the smile that curved her lips. "When things like this happen, Rusty," she lifted her voice just a bit so that Andy would know that she had heard him, and that she was directing part of her statement at him, "we have to make certain that they do not happen again. We are, all of us, charged with the safety of the people of this city. That includes our fellow officers and their families. No one needs to live in fear that they may some day be hurt, or worse, by someone that they depend on to keep them alive. Wives and children, mothers, sisters, and fathers, even brothers, they should not have to fear that when their loved ones leave, they will not come home. Not because of the dangers we know that we face every day, but from those that are within the very organization that is meant to keep everyone from harm. It is a very sad thing, Rusty, but sometimes the most significant change that we can affect comes from within."

Andy looked up from the iPad that he was studying. He gazed at Rusty for a moment and then he shrugged. "When you do this long enough, you find that it gets harder instead of easier. The dirtbags get smarter, and if you're really unlucky, you find out that they're standing right beside you." He shrugged. "We do what we gotta do, and that's not always enough. So then we let the paper pushers tell us how to do it better."

Sharon's lips pursed. She lifted her eyes heavenward for a moment. "In a manner of speaking. I might have chosen a better description than _paper pushers_ , but that is more or less the way that it works."

Rusty grinned at the face Andy made in response. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from laughing. His side was hurting much too badly for that. "The police have a department _inside_ that keeps you all from getting into too much trouble right? Something that didn't really work this time, so what if the problem is that someone needs to keep an eye on them? What if the police that police the police had to answer to someone else?" Rusty's nose wrinkled. "Did that make sense?"

"Nope." Andy frowned at him. It had, but it wasn't an idea that he wanted to entertain. It was bad enough that they had IA breathing down their necks half the time. He could just imagine what it would be like to have civilians who had no idea how they did their jobs sweeping in to poke their noses into things they could not begin to understand. It was enough to give him a headache and have his blood pressure rising.

"Actually it did," Sharon said. She shook her head and made a face at Andy's grumbling. "That is something that may be considered. I really do not know, Rusty." Her head inclined. "Perhaps that is an idea that you can explore on your own. You've proven to be very good at research. Maybe this is a story that you might want to tell for your VLOG. Carefully edited out of course, and within reason."

"Maybe." Rusty wasn't sure about that. It was a little too close to home. It was something to think about, however. "It really sucks that this happened, Sharon. That sergeant died, and what happened to us, and everything."

"It does," she agreed with a sad smile. "It really sucks, but Rusty, you and I are okay. We are both going to get better and we will put this behind us. I promise you that."

"I know." He smiled at her, and this time the expression was much gentler and more genuine. "I guess I'm just really tired of people trying to kill me," he lamented with a crooked grin."

"You know something Rusty," Sharon shrugged her good shoulder, "I am pretty tired of people trying to kill you too." She studied her son's image closely and shook her head. "Now I think that it's time that we bring this to an end. You do not look like you are feeling well, and I have to admit, I am beginning to hurt a little too." Her shoulder was throbbing, if she was truthful about it, but that was not something that she wanted Rusty or Andy worrying about. "Enjoy your dinner, Rusty, and get some rest. We will talk again tomorrow."

"Okay." Rusty had gotten used to being able to talk to Sharon whenever he wanted to. It never occurred to him that there would be a day when he couldn't. Even if she was working a case, she was available to him. Now they were separated, and only by a couple of floors, but it was an odd feeling to not have her readily accessible; this was not a matter of her being out in the field, or tied up in court. She was right there; he just couldn't go and see her. Maybe that would change the following day. Just taking a shower had exhausted Rusty, but he made a note to talk to Ricky and Gus when they came back about sneaking him down to the third floor to see his mom. "Tomorrow," he said and offered her a smile, small though it was. "Love you."

"I love you." Sharon pressed her fingers to the screen before she ended the call. She closed the case on the iPad and set it aside before tipping her head back and sighing. She pressed her eyes closed and concentrated on breathing through the pain. For the first time that day she was alone in her room. Her shoulder wasn't hurting so badly that she couldn't enjoy that, just for a few minutes. She loved them all, but didn't need them hovering, not over her. Sharon waited just long enough for the pain in her shoulder to begin shooting down her back before she pressed the call button for the nurse.

Rusty looked over at Andy as he closed the lid on his laptop. "You know that you really don't have to be the _Rustysitter_ , right?" He picked up his burger, but he wasn't all that hungry anymore. He still wanted it, though, at least a couple of bites.

"I didn't exactly need a _Flynnsitter_ every second of the day either," Andy replied, this time without looking up from the iPad in his hands, "and yet…" When he did finally glance at Rusty he pointed a finger at him. "You're not supposed to have that."

"And yet…" Rusty smirked at him and lifted the burger to his mouth for a bite. He ended up taking only a single bite because the smell made him queasy. Rusty put it aside and decided to concentrate on his fries instead. "The point that I was making was that you can go back down and sit with Sharon if you want to. You don't have to be here. Ricky and Gus will come back as soon as they figure out that you're gone."

"Yeah." Andy smirked at him. "But let's just make them sweat it out a little bit. Your mom will be okay for a few minutes. Emily will be back soon anyway." She had waited until after hatching Sharon's plan to gang up on him with Provenza to go to the condo for a nap and shower. "It's fine, Rusty."

"Fine." Rusty ate a few more fries before he leaned back in the bed. He pushed the table aside and got comfortable. He winced as he shifted. He would need his meds soon, but he didn't like the way that they made his head spin. He could wait a little while. "At least I don't snore."

"There was snoring." He didn't look up this time. Andy continued to focus on the eBook that he was reading. "Loud, obnoxious snoring. Remind me to talk to Sharon about sending you to an ENT. That cannot be healthy." Andy rolled his eyes toward Rusty. His brows arched. "I have worked with Provenza for more years than you have been alive. I can do this all night."

"Playing the age card really takes all the fun out of it." Rusty closed his eyes. He was silent for a few minutes. The only sound in the room was the quiet hiss and beep of the IV machine beside his bed. Rusty tapped his fingers against the mattress beneath him. After a moment, he opened his eyes again. "Hey, Andy."

"Yeah kid." He looked up again, this time wondering if he needed to get the nurse.

"She's really okay, right?" She had seemed pale and small, but otherwise their conversation was just like any other. Rusty looked at the man who had become such a big part of their lives over the last year. The one who always put his mother first, even when he was injured and they didn't know if he would be okay. He wanted an honest answer, and he knew that he would get one.

"I'm sitting here, aren't I?" Andy closed the case on his iPad and put it aside. "Rusty, she's okay. She's worried about you and she's hurt, but Sharon is doing just fine. If she weren't, I wouldn't be here. We wouldn't be indulging your brother's need to act like a screw-off just to let off some steam because he's been so worried about both of you. There's no way that I would have gotten Provenza or any of the others to go home and get some rest this evening. They would still be camping out in the waiting room on 3. She's okay," he repeated. "I promise."

Rusty nodded slowly. He supposed that was true. "Yeah. Thanks." He settled back again. "Can we get the nurse? I think it's time." His leg was throbbing worse than his side was and every time that he moved it just got worse.

"We can do that." Andy pulled himself out of the chair. "Hold tight. I'll let them know. Do you need to get up first?"

"God no," the thought of moving that much made Rusty want to curl into a ball, he only narrowly avoided shuddering in response. "I've moved enough for one day."

Andy laughed. "Yeah, I don't blame you. I've been there. Okay, hang on a minute. We'll get you fixed up with something for the pain." He walked over and hit the call button to summon the nurse.

It was not Rusty's room that Ricky returned to after picking up coffee with Gus, but his mother's. The two men had separated at the elevators. Gus had gone back to sit with Rusty and Ricky decided to check on his mother. He found her with her eyes closed and appearing to doze. Ricky eased into the room as quietly as he could and took a seat beside the bed. As he got comfortable he watched her eyes flutter open. "I didn't mean to wake you," he said.

"You didn't." The pain medicine was only beginning to take effect. Sharon had only closed her eyes for a moment as the first wave of weightless euphoria swept over her. It was not a sensation that she had ever enjoyed. "What's the matter, baby?" Ricky looked pensive.

"Nothing." He leaned over and laid his head on the bed next to her leg. "I'm just glad that you're okay." He paused for a moment before adding, "and Rusty too. He's kind of stubborn, but I think he's going to be okay." There was something heartbreaking about watching his brother feel so awkward about having family help him. Ricky's brows drew together in a frown. "Did I ever thank you?"

Sharon shook her head. She gave him a puzzled look. "For what?" She swept a lock of dark hair away from his brow. "Ricky, what is the matter?"

"Nothing is wrong," he assured her. "I was just thinking today, that's all. You were right. I was an asshole when Rusty first moved in, and even worse when you decided to adopt him. I don't think that I thanked you though." He shrugged at her. "It's not so bad having a brother."

Her eyes filled with tears and she gave him a watery smile. "No, having him around isn't so bad at all." Sharon continued to comb her fingers through her elder son's hair. "I honestly do not think that he minds you either. He looks up to you, you know. The idea of family is still new. He looks up to you and Emily to make sure that he is doing it right, even though there really is no wrong way."

"I know." That was something that he was still figuring out, but he had seen it. It was in the way that Rusty used to hang back and observe them. Now he participated, but there were still moments, though they were much fewer. Ricky lifted his head. He ran a hand over his face and sighed. "I think I kind of look up to him too." It still blew him away sometimes when he realized just how much Rusty had been through in so short a time. He didn't blame any of it for his shortcomings; he just tried to be better. "Gus isn't so bad either," he added quickly, but went on to say, "are we sure that he's not too old for Rusty?"

Sharon smiled and fought the urge to laugh. "Gus has been through a lot too. I don't want to speak out of turn, but they have similar histories. He is older," she agreed, "but in many ways Gus and Rusty are on the same level emotionally. He's a good boy, and they're friends too."

"I watched the VLOG," Ricky told her. "That was all pretty terrible. He seems really nice. I just… you know?"

"Yes. I know." He didn't want to see his little brother get hurt. Sharon didn't believe that would happen. Rusty and Gus were young, and there would be some hurts along the way, for both of them, but she thought that they had the potential to remain friends, even if a romance did not work out. "You know, you're not as bad at this as you thought that you would be." Sharon knew her son. He had approached the idea of having a younger sibling with a sense of apprehension that was unwarranted. He was used to having Emily to look up to. He never had to be responsible for a younger sibling before. "I think that you are doing very well at this big brother job."

"Emily always made it look so easy." Ricky propped his head in his hand. "It's really hard. It's not bad though. I kind of like having the little pain the butt around. Sometimes I just wish that we found him sooner. Before a lot of the bad stuff." Ricky shrugged again. "Before he had a reason to think that it was weird that someone would want to take care of him. I have held Emily's hair while she puked, and she has tied my shoes because my arm was broken and it wasn't weird. Rusty never had that. It was kind of sad."

"I know." She stroked a hand over his hair. "Some day it will not seem so odd to him, and yes. I do wish that we could have found him sooner. Things work out the way that they are meant to, Ricky. He came to us when he needed to. He's ours now."

"Yes." Ricky laid his head down again. He could tell that she was wilting fast. "Go to sleep. We can talk some more later," he said.

"Hm." She wasn't going to argue that fact. Sharon was finding it very hard to keep her eyes open. She let them drift closed again but laid a hand against his hair. "Tomorrow," she promised.

Andy found them like that a short while later. He left Rusty with Gus and returned to Sharon's room. Rather than disturb either of them, he settled himself in the chair near the window and propped his feet up on the narrow sofa. It wasn't long before Emily returned. She curled up with a book in the corner of the sofa and like the previous evening, the three of them occupied themselves by reading or napping while they kept a silent vigil over the woman that they all loved.

 **-TBC-**


	15. Chapter 15

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

On the morning that Sergeant Matthew Elliot was laid to rest there was a bright sun shining overhead. The day was warm, and the breeze that blew in off the pacific filled the air with the familiar scent of sea and salt. It gave the morning a sense of cheer that was far removed from the purpose of those who gathered.

It had been a week since the shooting that had landed her in the hospital, and Sharon had been out of the hospital for only a day, but that had not stopped her from insisting upon joining the rest of her team at the memorial service. The effort that it had taken to dress for the occasion had left her exhausted and in pain, but she had joined the others in dress uniform. Her arm was still in a brace that both supported her shoulder and kept movement at a minimum by securing the injured limb to her torso; the brace stood out in stark contrast to her uniform, but she hadn't cared. There were not many people who were unaware of what had happened.

The shooting of an LAPD police captain and her son had made the circuit of several news outlets, as had the arrests of those responsible. That it was tied to the Sergeant's murder and those arrests had also been the subject of several news reports in the days leading up to the service. Sharon ignored the stares and the cameras. If she stood with her Lieutenant's hand at her back to help steady her, no one seemed to notice.

It was a long and trying day, filled with speeches and eulogies, one of which she had delivered herself. At the end of it, Sharon was more than happy to return home. It was just not her home that she returned to. With Emily and Ricky insisting on staying in Los Angeles until she and Rusty were out of the hospital and well on their way to recovery, the condo had been much too small for the four of them. When Sharon factored Andy into that equation too, and Gus, there was simply no way that her small home would contain all of them. It was not a thought that she had entertained until Andy had pointed it out to her.

Turn about was fair play, he told her, even as he deposited her at his small bungalow. The house wasn't very big, but it was larger than the condo. There were two bedrooms and a small den that Andy only used for storage. Gus helped him clean out the den, at least so much that they could set up an extra bed. By the time that Sharon was released from the hospital, they had, with additional help from Ricky and Emily, managed to get everything arranged at Andy's house. She protested the necessity, quite vehemently at first, but it was Emily that changed her mind. Her daughter agreed that she would be more comfortable in her own home, and started in on Andy to take her mother back to the condo. He was beginning to believe that the eldest Raydor child had turned coat on him until Emily started discussing getting a hotel room nearby. She would get the one room and then she and Ricky could trade off staying with her mother. It would be an indefinite stay, but she was certain that they could manage it. Sharon caved, and Andy realized that Emily had known that she would. There was no way that she would ever allow a child of hers to stay in a hotel when they could stay with her. It was quite masterfully done. Andy had tipped his hat to her, and then made a mental note to never get on Emily's bad side.

Sharon and Rusty were not released from the hospital at the same time. While Sharon hated leaving him at the hospital, it was a bit of a relief to Andy to be able to get her settled and through the ordeal of Sergeant Elliot's funeral before they had to get Rusty released and arranged at his house. Bringing Rusty home was something that they were expecting to happen within the next two days. He was recovering well, and the Doctor had not anticipated any issues with releasing him before the week's end. Gus and Ricky had stayed with Rusty while Emily had accompanied her mother home with the Lieutenant.

It was Emily that helped Andy get her mother settled, and it was Emily that had assisted him in getting her ready for the funeral. While she had stayed behind for the actual service, Emily was waiting for them when they returned. Sharon was exhausted, emotionally and physically. The act of getting her out of her dress uniform was much easier than it had been to get her into it. Emily left that to Andy while she prepared a light meal. Neither her mother nor the Lieutenant were hungry, but she knew that her mother would need the pain medication that was sent home with her. She would be able to tolerate it better if she ate something. Emily could remember from having her appendix removed when she was nineteen that Vicodin on an empty stomach was not a fun experience.

Once they had managed to get her out of her uniform and into something more comfortable, Sharon refused to go to bed. She had been in bed for days. She was tired of lying on her back. No amount of being tired or in pain was going to change her mind about that. She insisted on resting in the living room, and she insisted on Andy allowing her to walk there. He was hovering, and it was driving her crazy.

Because it was easier on her shoulder, Sharon was wearing a tank top with a pair of leggings. She had one arm tucked through a sleeve of one of Andy's dress shirts, the pale blue one that was her favorite, while the other side was draped over her injured shoulder. She batted Andy's hand away as she made her way down the hall to the living room. "I can walk," she told him, and not for the first time. "Stop hovering."

He only smirked at her. "Not a lot of fun, is it?" It had not taken him long to exchange his uniform for a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, but in the few minutes he spent changing, Sharon was already escaping the bedroom. She was one stubborn woman, and being shot had not changed that. He didn't think that anything could, and that was just one of the reasons that he loved her… even when it infuriated him.

The glare that she shot his direction would have frightened a lesser man. When he only flashed his cheekiest, most charming smile, Sharon bared her teeth at him. That only made him chuckle at her. She sniffed and lifted her chin in defiance. "You annoy me," she stated in a bland tone.

"I know. It's an art. I have spent years getting it perfect." He could ignore her bad mood. She was an intelligent, strong, and independent woman. She did not want to need his help, but that did not mean that she didn't need his help, or that she would not appreciate it when it was offered. This was something that he understood, only too well. They were only a few months removed from the injury that had landed him in the hospital and off duty for several weeks. As Sharon shuffled down the hall, he decided to let her. Andy followed quietly and when she seemed to sway only a few steps later, he moved closer and wrapped an arm around her middle.

Sharon sighed as she leaned in to him. She had over done it just a bit. The room was starting to spin around her. She laid her head against his shoulder and when he walked her to the couch instead of carrying her there, she smiled. She knew that he understood, but it was still making her crazy, this having to rely upon him and her children. She did not like that she was hurt, and she did not like that they needed to take care of her, and she truly, truly did not like the fact that she would not be able to help care for Rusty when he was released from the hospital. When they reached the sofa, Sharon turned in his embrace and pressed her face into his neck. The fingers of her free hand curled into his shirt and she drew a slow breath. There was more pain to be had than the throbbing of her shoulder. She felt a little selfish suddenly. They had just watched a man that she had worked with for several years, a man that she had trained and mentored, be placed in a grave. They watched his wife and children mourn. Yet here she was, thinking of herself, and how terrible her life was at present. Sharon shook her head as she stood there. Andy held her so carefully, as if he was afraid to hurt her, but when she felt his lips touch the spot just below her ear, she knew that it was only her shoulder that he was being careful of. Sharon lifted her head and gazed up at him. "I love you even when you annoy me," she said.

"That's good to know." His hand moved into her hair to massage the back of her head. The ends of her hair were curling from the bun that Emily had twisted it into for the funeral. He knew that she hated wearing it up, but she did it when it was required. "I love you even when you drive me crazy," he responded. There was a sadness in her eyes that he knew only time would be able to remove, but her lips curved into a smile that had him ducking his head to press a kiss to her mouth. He laid his hands on her hips and turned her toward the sofa. "Let's get you situated," he said quietly.

"Hm." Sharon nodded and let him maneuver her onto the sofa. It was a thick, soft structure, upholstered in brown suede. She practically sank into the plush cushions and almost purred as the soft material surrounded her. She sighed, and the sound was one of relief, when Andy lifted her legs onto the sofa and tucked a blanket over her. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes for a moment. Andy left the room, but when he returned he had her pain pills and a bottle of water. Sharon accepted both of them with a grateful smile and as she took the medicine, she drew her legs up and made room for him on the sofa. "Emily can handle lunch," she told him. Her children were insisting on staying, and they were insisting on helping, so there was no reason for him to do _everything_. The day had been just as long and tiring for him as it had been for her.

Andy sighed at the pointed look that she shot at him. He shook his head, but there was a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yes ma'am," he teased. He sat down and drew her legs over his lap. He rubbed her calves while she got comfortable and propped his bare feet up on the coffee table in front of them. He turned on the television, but kept the volume pitched low. Andy flipped through channels looking for something that would be mindless enough entertainment that they could have it on as background noise without having to truly concentrate on it. Fox Southwest was playing a few spring training games, but he preferred to wait until the baseball season started. The training games were hardly competitive, and were just all about the minor league guys trying to make the cut for the new season. Andy passed them over and kept changing channels until he found an old Hepburn and Tracey movie. He settled on that, but when he glanced over at Sharon, he found her dozing.

The sound of the doorbell drew all of their attention. Emily stepped out of the kitchen and waved him off. "I'll get it. Don't move her."

"That's gotta be Rick," Andy told her. "I've told him that he doesn't have to use the bell…" It seemed ridiculous since they were going to be staying there. Emily was in the small guest room and Ricky would be camping out in the den. They had gotten the second guest room, the bigger of the two, ready for Rusty. None of the rooms were especially large, though. The house had been built in the forties, and although it had been modernized, it was small. It was just enough room for him, despite the extra rooms, because living in an apartment had never appealed to him. He supposed that he might need something bigger at some point, now that certain things in his life were changing, but that was a decision and conversation for a later time.

"You're going to have to give us a few days on that one," Emily said. Even she had felt a little uncomfortable at just walking into the house earlier. It was a nice, quaint little place but it definitely needed a woman's touch as far as the decorating was concerned. He had gone with dark earth tones, and mostly neutral colors. She applauded him for the dark, cherry wood furniture and matching couches and chairs, but without a splash of color here and there it all just looked depressing. As she opened the door, Emily was smiling. She wondered what her mother's Lieutenant boyfriend would do if a bright throw pillow ended up being tossed here or there by the end of their stay. She was also thinking about his floors. The old hardwood was lovely, but he could do with a nice area rug.

It was not her brother that Emily found standing on the other side of the door. She led the man into the living room. "Andy," she called his name quietly in deference to her napping mother.

Andy's head turned. The grin that he wore as he prepared to tease Ricky, again, about just walking into the house, froze on his face. "Chief." That was definitely not who he was expecting to have visit.

Taylor held up a hand when the Lieutenant started to move. "Don't get up," he said.

He gave Sharon's leg a gentle shake. She sighed, but did not immediately open her eyes. "I hear him," she stated. This was not how she wanted to spend the remainder of this day. Sharon's eyes fluttered open and she straightened on the sofa. She looked up at the man and tilted her head. "What can we do for you, Chief?" In the back of her mind she wondered if he had come to deliver the final blow, the news that they were going to insist on retiring her.

He sat down when Andy waved him toward a chair. Russell Taylor had not bothered to go home yet, and still wore the uniform that he had donned that morning for the memorial service. "Captain, Andy." He paused for a moment. "Sharon." He leaned forward in the seat and rested his arms on his knees. "How are you feeling?" He had spoken to her at the service, but only briefly. It was just long enough for him to ask about Rusty, but there had not been time for more than that.

"I have been better." Her brows arched in askance. She would prefer if he got the niceties out of the way. Andy shifted impatiently beside her and she knew that she was not alone in that. She laid her hand on his arm and gave his wrist a gentle squeeze to calm him. "I am sure that this is not a social visit, Chief. You will have to forgive me, but I am rather tired, so perhaps we can get to the purpose of it?"

Taylor nodded. "No need to apologize. I understand. You're right; I don't want to keep you long. I'm going to get right to it." He glanced at the Lieutenant before turning his attention back to the Captain. Even now, months after they had first informed him about this relationship, he found it odd. He never imagined that they would fit together as well as they had. Taylor pushed that thought aside as he returned the Captain's gaze. "Sharon, as you know, we've had a mess on our hands with the cleanup following this case. It's not over yet, and it probably won't be for a couple of months. The Mayor is concerned about how this looks for the Department, and how that looks for the city. There has been a certain amount of pressure placed on us to make sure that this sort of incident never happens again. We can't guarantee that," Taylor said, and spread his hands wide in an almost helpless gesture, "but there are some steps that we can take to make certain individuals feel better about it."

Andy's eyes narrowed. He wasn't sure if he liked where this seemed to be heading. "Like?"

"Commander Michaelson is going to retire," Taylor told them. "Staples was able to carry out his little operation right under the Commander's nose, so there is some culpability there. Nothing legal or ethical, but Michaelson has accepted responsibility. We have also asked the head of the Criminal Investigation Division to resign. A full audit is being conducted of the Professional Standards Bureau, but we're looking at the officers rather than their specific cases. All of that is preliminary. It doesn't really solve the problem, and it leaves us with a couple of holes that have to be filled." He glanced at Flynn again when the other man sighed, but then turned his unwavering gaze on the Captain. "I have spent the last several days in meetings with Chief Pope and the Mayor. We need someone who understands how that division is supposed to work to take control and clean it up. We need regulations in place that will help prevent this kind of internal catastrophe in the future. We want you to do it. Sharon, no one knows Internal Affairs like you do."

She hissed a breath. She looked away from him. "When you needed to put a good face on Major Crimes and repair the division's damaged reputation, you dangled it like a carrot. Now you need me to fix another mess," she drawled, "and what? Another lateral transfer? Is the privilege of returning to the dragon's lair supposed to be the promotion? Is this my reward? Chief, with all due respect, what makes you think that I would ever want to return to that? To the insults and the disrespect, to the animosity and the name-calling. Why would I jeopardize what I have spent the last several years building to move backward instead of forward?"

Andy's lips pursed. "I probably should have mentioned that she's had her pain medication." Sharon was speaking more candidly to the Chief than he had ever heard her do before. She was usually far more professionally correct and towed the line between what was respectful and what was necessary to point out when he was being an idiot.

Sharon snorted quietly. "No, honey, this is all me." She rubbed his arm again. "It hasn't quite kicked in yet." It would, soon enough. It was probably the pain and her lack of patience for everything that had happened that was pushing her to speak so openly to her boss, or perhaps it was a combination of everything else. It had been, as she had thought earlier, a long and trying day. She was in no mood to play at Departmental politics. "I do not believe that they are unfair questions. I am very happy with my current position. I think you know this." She and Andy had discussed her more recent job offer at length. She had given it up for a number of reasons, many of them personal, but at the heart of it she had done it because she was perfectly content with her place in the LAPD.

"Yeah." Andy shrugged at her. "I don't exactly want you walking back into that hell hole either, but I get why they're asking." He slanted a look at Taylor. "That's _if_ they are _asking_."

He shook his head. "I don't have any ultimatums. The Captain can turn us down if that's what she wants. But you should know," he said to Sharon, "this isn't a lateral transfer. You would get the promotion. We want you to take over the division. The entire division. You would replace Commander Michaelson." He gestured helplessly again, "Like you were supposed to do before we tapped you to clean up Major Crimes."

"Okay, wait a minute." Andy held up a hand. "Can I just object to the idea that anything had to be cleaned up in Major Crimes?" When they both flashed bland expressions at him, Andy looked away. "Fine, whatever," he muttered.

Sharon rubbed her lips together while she thought about it. "For the sake of conversation, not that I am in any way agreeing to this insanity, but if I were to take you up on this offer… What happens to my Division?" She arched a brow at the Chief. "What is going to become of Major Crimes?"

"We promote from within," Taylor said. "If none of the three eligible Lieutenants want it, then we pull someone else over to run the division. Major Crimes remains as it has. We're not planning on making any other changes."

"The _two_ eligible Lieutenants." Andy corrected them with a shake of his head. "Don't look at me. I don't want it. We spend enough time together as it is," he told Taylor.

"Believe me," the Chief replied, "you were the last one on that list." He rolled his eyes and focused on the Captain again. "Initially, you would be buried in audits and paperwork. I'm not going to lie. It wouldn't be an easy transition. The thing is, Sharon, we need someone that we know is going to do the right thing; someone that we can depend on to keep all of us safe. We need someone that we can trust."

She winced as he said that. Taylor knew which cards to play. Sharon rubbed a hand across her forehead. "When do you need an answer?" She would think about it. She could not immediately provide an answer for him. It wasn't the sort of decision that could, or should, be made without careful consideration. She also intended to discuss it with Andy. He would be affected by whatever choice that she made, professionally as well as personally.

"I can give you a week," Taylor told her. "We can keep Michaelson in place until you are released to come back. He is aware that it could be a while. Give it some thought, Sharon. Talk it over," he waved a hand in Andy's direction, "as you need to. I really hope that you will agree with us."

"I will have an answer for you by the end of the week," Sharon told him. It was all that she could offer him at the moment. "Now if you will excuse me, Chief. My pain medication is beginning to take effect. I am incredibly tired." She turned to the man beside her. "Andy, can you…"

He started to get up, but Taylor waved him off again. "I can find my way out." He stood up. "Whatever you decide, Sharon, we are looking forward to having you back. Give Rusty my best."

"I will, Chief. Thank you." Sharon slid her hand down Andy's arm in a simple caress and smiled when her daughter appeared to walk the Chief out. Her lips pursed. He was watching her with an almost imperceptible look in his eyes. "Yes?" She asked, and drew the syllable out carefully.

Andy repositioned her legs on his lap when she got comfortable again. His hand wrapped around her ankle. "It's not a bad idea," he said, although he would never have admitted that in front of Taylor. "Better the devil I know if they're reorganizing IA."

Sharon made a face at him. She poked his side. "Very funny, Lieutenant." She leaned back and closed her eyes. "I don't know Andy. I spent my entire career doing that job. I really do not know if I want to go back to it. I like what I am doing now." Her eyes opened again and she stared up at the ceiling. "I can finally walk into a room without people immediately going on the defensive," she admitted in a quiet voice.

"Did that ever really bother you before?" Andy tilted his head at her. He laid his hand on her knee while the other continued to gently rub her ankle and calf. "People know you now, even if they don't, it doesn't really matter. What was it that you said about IA last week? It takes a very specific kind of person to be able to do it. If there are any bad seeds left, you'd be able to find them. The most important thing that you have to know is, if anyone is going to be adding more bullshit regulations to the rulebook, I would rather it be you."

"Hm." Sharon shook her head slowly. "I am really not sure, Andy. Are you honestly suggesting that you would be okay if I transferred _back_ to Professional Standards? Do you have any idea what that would mean?" She offered him a small smile. "You would be in bed with the queen of the rat squad. People would look at you differently, they would think of you differently, and believe me, they would treat you differently."

"I don't _want_ you going anywhere," Andy said. "You might as well be flying all over hell and creation with the NFL for how much we'll probably get to see each other, especially during the transition. This isn't about what I want, Sharon, but if you're asking, my answer is the same as it was a couple of months ago. I want you to be happy. I want you to do what you feel is best, and not just for us, but for yourself. If that means that I have to put up with Provenza moving into your office, then so be it. It's not going to change anything between us, if that's what you're worried about. It's a job. I might not always like it, and I might not always agree with it, but I get it. One thing that Taylor was right about, it's got to be someone that all of us trust. No matter what else anyone ever said about you, they could never say that you weren't doing it all by the book." He moved his hand to tip her chin up when she looked down. "Take it or don't, I'm still going to be right here.

Her hand circled his wrist. Sharon drew a breath and let it out slowly. "I will think about it," she said. "Whatever I choose, Andy, it will not change this for me either. I will still love you, and I will still want you right here beside me."

"Get some rest," he told her. "We can talk about it later." She was beginning to slur just a bit and he could tell that she was struggling to keep her eyes open. "We can hash it all out."

She smiled as she closed her eyes. Sharon was already weighing the pros and cons between her two choices. She wished that her decision was a simple one, that she could just give the Chief an answer and be done with it. That was not the case. Whatever decision she made would be a difficult one. There were a lot of moving parts to take in to consideration. Sharon had given up on the idea of ever being promoted beyond Captain, but that would not be why she accepted the transfer. She just had to determine whether or not her desire to remain in Major Crimes was stronger than her belief in how the system should work. Was it stronger than her need to try and somehow create something out of the tragedy that they had faced?

She didn't know the answers to those questions. More than that, in the future that she was trying to create with Andy, she had to ask herself, was there enough space in it to take a step back? There were more questions on her mind than answers as she dozed off. The only thing that she really knew for certain was that it was going to feel like an incredibly short week.

 **-TBC-**


	16. Chapter 16

**Killing Game**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

* * *

 **Chapter 16**

She had given herself until the end of the week. Sharon didn't bring up the promotion and transfer again, although it appeared on several occasions as though she might. Andy was tempted to ask, especially when he caught her lost in thought, and obviously considering the possibilities that lay before them. In the days that followed Taylor's visit there was plenty more to keep him occupied. He was curious, and he knew that Sharon was aware of his curiosity, but experience had taught him that she would discuss it when she was ready. In the meantime they had Rusty to take care of. They brought him home three days later; a mild fever had delayed his release by a day and the physician supervising his care kept him in the hospital for observation and treatment of a possible post-operative infection. When the fever did little more than fade away to nothing after a bolus of antibiotics, Rusty was released and sent home with a prescription for the full antibiotic regimen.

Rusty began teasing Sharon and Andy about their current living arrangements the moment that he was situated at the Lieutenant's home, and it became apparent from his gleeful expression that he had been waiting to do just that. "If we're going to end up playing musical houses, why don't the two of you just move in together…"

The couple stared at him for just a moment before Sharon turned to Andy. "Only if the yard is big enough for a pool."

His head tilted and his lips pursed while he thought about it. He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "We could even get a dog," he mused.

Her eyes lit up with amusement. Sharon nodded slowly. "Something in a nice, obnoxious, medium sized terrier. You know, the kind that bounces all over the place and generally makes a nuisance of itself."

"Hm." Andy nodded. "Yeah. We could name it Rusty Junior."

"Yes." Sharon smiled brightly. "When he is exceptionally naughty we will just point at him and say _stop that!_ " She did just that to Rusty and her eyes narrowed into a stern look. Her son was smiling at her and attempting to look oh so innocent where he was reclining on the bed that they had deposited him on. She wasn't about to fall for it. She knew her boy entirely too well, and from the snickering that she heard coming from the hall, Sharon also knew that this had his older siblings written all over it too. "Emily Ann, Richard William, Russell Thomas, you will all behave and conduct yourselves like the respectful and polite guests that I expect you to be while Andy is allowing us to use his home."

Ricky poked his head into the room at that point. "But mom…" His dark eyes were sparkling with mischief. "Andy said that we aren't guests here. He said that his house was our house."

Sharon's lips pursed again. She passed her tongue over her teeth and rolled her eyes toward her boyfriend. Her brow arched. "Andy."

He shrugged. Andy tossed his hands up in a helpless, innocent gesture. "What? I was trying to be supportive. How was I supposed to know that they would use it against me?" He arched a brow at her. The corners of his mouth twitched. A crooked grin appeared as he added, "They're your little hoodlums, not mine."

He turned and sauntered casually from the room. Sharon's eyes narrowed at his back. "Rusty, do you have everything that you need?"

"Sure." He folded his lips together. He was trying very hard not to laugh. "I'm good here, Sharon. Nice and comfy. Actually, on second thought, you know my _Interview with a Vampire_ poster would look great on that wall…" He trailed off when she turned her narrow-eyed gaze on him. Rusty's lips trembled with the effort to contain his laughter. "Or not," he managed.

She stared hard at him until he looked away. If he was still trying very hard to not laugh, Sharon chose to ignore that. "Excuse me," she stated. "There is a situation that I need to deal with." Sharon turned and made her way out of the room. She was still moving slowly, even a few days later, but her shoulder did not throb as badly, or as often, as it had in the days initially following the shooting. Almost two weeks later, although it was still in the brace, it was healing well. She made her way into the hall and paused only long enough to playfully slap her eldest son's arm. She shook her head at him and rolled her eyes when he only laughed. "Keep an eye on your brother," she instructed.

"Why?" Ricky flashed a playful smirk at her. "Is he going to do something?" When his mother glared at him he dodged quickly into Rusty's room before she could retaliate.

Sharon followed Andy down the hall to his room, the one that they were currently sharing, and stood just inside the doorway for a moment. She watched him as he took a suit out of his closet and hung it on a hook beside the closet door. As he paired it with a shirt and matching tie, playing close attention to the match, Sharon stifled a laugh. She had spent the last few mornings watching him go through his morning routine as he got ready for work, and she honestly had to question who took the most time in the mornings, her or him. Sharon walked into the room and moved over to take a seat on the bed. She chose the side nearest him and slid back, closer to the center of the bed, before she drew her legs up and folded them in front of her.

Andy had taken the afternoon off so that they could get Rusty settled, and things were quiet for their division at the moment, but they could not expect that to remain the status quo indefinitely. Sharon understood why he was getting ready to have to leave. He could be called out at a moment's notice. She watched him pull a small, hanging rack out of his closet. It held several sets of suspenders. Her lips curved into a smile as he sorted through them. "The red ones," she said. He had chosen the gray, slate colored shirt to wear with his dark suit, along with the red striped tie.

He pulled the red suspenders free of the rack and draped them over the hanger that held his suit. After he had replaced the rack in his closet and closed the door, he walked over to join her on the bed. "Provenza ever finds out that I'm letting you dress me I'm done for."

Sharon chuckled quietly. "At least I'm not buying your clothes for you." When he only arched a brow at her Sharon was reminded of the purple tie and matching suspenders that she had gotten him for Christmas. "Oh," she smiled. "Your secret is safe with me."

Andy laughed. "I should hope so." He looked over at her, seated on his bed. Her hair was twisted up into a messy bun with several tendrils falling to frame and curl around her neck and face. She was wearing a loose knit top and a pair of yoga pants. She was casual and comfortable and if it weren't for the brace, it would have been the sexiest thing that he had seen of her yet. Andy realized as she sat there that she looked pensive. He was once again tempted to ask, and this time he did not restrain himself. "Did you make a decision?"

They both knew what he was asking. Sharon looked down for a moment. She picked at the edge of the sling that her injured arm was resting in. "I did." Now that she had come to it, she didn't really regret the decision. Sharon looked up at him and a small smile curved her lips. "Andy, if I…"

He cupped the back of her head and drew her toward him. Andy kissed her before she could go any farther. It lingered for a moment and he felt her smile against his mouth. "Not if," he rumbled quietly when he drew away. "When, Sharon. You decided and I'm not going to try and change your mind."

"I know that," she whispered. Sharon reached up and curled her hand around his wrist. "You do not have to try and change my mind. If you are not okay with the decision that I made, then it doesn't leave this room, and I will tell Taylor—"

"No you won't," Andy leaned back. "It doesn't have anything to do with me, Sharon. I already told you how I feel about it. If you stay with us in Major Crimes, that's great. If you're not then…" Andy trailed off with a shrug and a crooked grin. "That just means we're going to have less time together to look for a place with a yard and a pool. So what? I tell people that my girl makes the rules, and you tell those jokers in FID to toss the book at me if I get in trouble. We've gotten pretty good the last few months at keeping work where it belongs. I don't see how that's going to change." When she opened her mouth to respond, he pressed a finger against her lips. "And if anyone runs off at the mouth about us, then you'd better get ready to send me to Anger Management, because I will probably end up in Wheaton's office."

Sharon smiled at him. It lit her eyes and brightened her face. Her pallor had been returning to normal the last few days, and now she practically glowed with happiness. "Then I suggest that you pull out your old notes from the last time that you sat in one of those classes," she said, voice thick with emotion, "because it sounds like you may end up doing it again." She rubbed her lips together and shrugged her good shoulder at him. "You were right, Andy. So was Taylor, although I am really loath to admit that. I cannot think of anyone else that I would trust to correct the situation that was created by Sergeant Staples and the others. Maybe it is ego, or my own need to control things, but I keep coming back to the same thought. I have loved working with you, and the last four years with Major Crimes have been extraordinary. I would not change any of it, well, there are a few exceptions, but for the most part I know that I have been incredibly blessed to be part of that division. I also know that for that unit to be able to function, for any of us to be able to do the jobs that we are sworn to do, we have to know that we are safe. We have to be able to trust the people standing beside us. I need to know that when my son leaves the house that he isn't going to be targeted by someone that I am working with. I know that I cannot guarantee anyone's safety, but I can try." She looked down again. "I only hope that you will still like me when I start tossing new rules at you."

"Are you kidding me?" He scoffed quietly. When it drew her gaze back to him, Andy stared back at her. "I can't think of a whole lot that will make me stop _liking_ you and I can think of a hell of a lot less that would make me stop loving you. You're too damned smart to be that idiotic, Sharon. It's not gonna happen. Hell, I'm the least of your worries. What you gotta keep in mind is whether or not the others are going to let you go. Even after they do, nothing is going to change. Especially not for you and me. I'm not going anywhere."

"Good." She cupped his cheek. "I like having you around." Sharon leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth. "Maybe," she said in a low voice, "when the dust settles and we are through the transition, and everything is on even ground again, maybe Rusty is right. Maybe there is another conversation that we need to have." At his slightly puzzled expression, she brushed her lips across. "I really like having you around all the time."

"Oh yeah?" His hand moved in to her hair. He dislodged the messy bun so that her hair spilled around his hand. He tugged her carefully toward him and kissed her bottom lip. "Maybe we should do that. I kind of like having you around too. When everything settles down," he agreed. It could be months before they managed to work their way back around to that topic. They were in no rush, and as long as they both knew that they were moving in the same direction, he was content to go along for the ride. "Commander Raydor," he said, and kissed her again. "That doesn't sound bad."

"It does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" She leaned away from him. "Then it's done. I will call Taylor in the morning. I will tell the rest of the team when it is official." Her head tilted and she gave him another long, considering look. "There is something else that I plan on doing, but I cannot tell you about it yet. Just remember, you promised to love me no matter what."

"God almighty!" Andy stood up. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "You see, it's when you say things like this that I get worried."

Sharon laughed as he walked toward the door. "Where are you going?"

"To find my old Anger Management notes." He tossed a smirk back at her. "You're plotting." He pointed a finger at her. "That means I need to start studying. You're hell on heels lady, and I need all the advantages that I can get."

She snorted a laugh at his retreating back. Sharon covered her face. The laugher shook her entire body. Her shoulder twinged painfully but she ignored it. "I cannot believe that I fell in love with the LAPD's biggest smart ass." It amazed her when she considered where they had started. Looking back, Sharon wondered what she would have said if anyone had predicted this future for herself. Would she have believed them? Probably not. At the same time, she could not imagine her life moving in any other direction. Sharon hummed quietly as she stood up and made her way back down the hall. She wanted to spend time with Rusty before his next dose of pain medication, and before she needed her own. Her boy was home, and he was healing. Life was not exactly perfect, but it was moving forward again. It was all that she could ask for.

 **MCMCMCMCMCMC**

In the weeks that followed Rusty was on his feet and released by his physician to return to school before Sharon was released to return to work. Three weeks after her initial surgery a second, laparoscopic procedure was done to further repair the damage that was done by the bullet that struck her. Recovery from the second surgery went much more smoothly and she began physical therapy soon after. Sharon was released back to desk duty almost six full weeks following the shooting.

When she returned it was to several meetings held in Chief Taylor's office as they discussed the transfer and promotion that would place her back in Internal Affairs. Once it was made official she informed her division. As expected they had not liked it. Lieutenant Provenza took issue with the fact that his partner had not given him the heads up about the situation. Sanchez was upset that she was leaving them. Amy had congratulated her Captain, but the younger woman's distress was apparent. The deed was done, and she would be transitioning out of Major Crimes at the end of the month. There was only one other thing that she needed to do first.

Sharon asked Buzz to stay behind after the others left her office. Lieutenant Provenza had given her a hard, suspicious look. Once he was on the other side of the door he pointed a finger at Flynn. "You and I are going to have words," he promised.

Andy rolled his eyes. "You don't discuss your girlfriend's career aspirations with me. I'm not discussing mine with you." He sat down behind his desk and opened the file that he was reviewing before Sharon called them in for the meeting.

Provenza continued to glower darkly at him. "Do you know what she's in there doing right now? _That woman_ is up to no good!" His eyes narrowed. "Did you know about that too?"

"Nope." Andy hadn't even considered this possibility when Sharon indicated that there would be more changes coming their way. He looked up at Provenza and shrugged. "It's not really up to me either. It's not up to you. Whatever is going on in there is between them."

"Everything is about to change," Sanchez said quietly. He was watching the office. They all were. The blinds were still open. Buzz was seated in front of the Captain's desk and the two appeared to be engaged in a serious discussion.

"It's not a bad thing." Tao sat down in his chair but turned to face the others. "I think I know what that's about, and if I'm right." He looked around the room. "If we are all right about it, this could actually be good for all of us."

Provenza scowled at him. "How do you figure?"

Tao shrugged. "The Captain's rules have never been unreasonable. Inconvenient at times, but never impossible to follow. We can't say that we haven't all thought about who in Internal Affairs is on the take now. We're all thinking it. The whole department is. I don't want to see the Captain go," he clarified, "but once she does, I'll feel better about what is going on in IA."

They could not argue with that logic. Even Amy found herself nodding. "What about Buzz?" She asked. "What does he have to do with this?"

"Buzz has always liked rules," Julio said quietly. "He's fresh. He's eager. He wants to do it right."

"And we won't be able to protect him forever." It was Andy that said it. He looked at each of them individually. For how long had they covered Buzz's back, even after he began his training to become a reserve officer? How many times had they sent him out of harm's way, taken his camera because the crime scene was too gruesome, and protected him from the horrors of the world? He was not a child. They never treated him like one. What they had done was stand between him and danger, between him and darkness. They bore the brunt of it, they carried the cynicism, and some of them were getting old. "Do you want him riding a beat," Andy continued, "after we're long gone and not there to keep an eye out, or do you want him learning something else, from someone else." He jerked his head toward the Captain's office.

Silence settled over the Murder Room as they all considered that. It was Julio that finally broke it. He leaned back in his chair. He looked heavenward for a moment before he spoke. "It takes someone special to police the police."

Provenza grumbled as he walked to his desk. He sat down behind it with a sigh. "Fine," he said. "But he's not allowed to go anywhere until he finishes showing me how to play that damned bird game on my phone."

Tao snorted and turned away. Andy rolled his eyes again. Amy was the only one who spoke. She sat straight in her chair. "Don't worry, Lieutenant. There is a book that will help." When she had his attention she flashed a wide, cheeky smile. "It's called Angry Birds for Senior Citizens. I'll print it for you. You'll love it."

Julio lowered his head to his desk as he laughed. He could hear the Lieutenant sputtering. Everything was about to change, but a lot of other things would stay the same. They would figure it out, they always did.

In her office, Sharon watched as Buzz thought over the offer that she had just made him. When she considered her transfer she also thought about those within Internal Affairs that she could trust. There were precious few names on that list now. She was also fully aware that there was not much career left in front of her. Sooner than she probably wanted to admit she would be making the choice to retire. If she was going to make this move, if she was going to put in the very long hours of work that would be required to clean up the mess that others had made and then ensure that it never happened again… she wanted to know that when she did leave the LAPD she would be leaving her legacy in good hands. There were only a few people that she could think of that would be able to maintain the level of ethics and professionalism that she expected, and she did not think that any of them had the potential to lead.

Buzz was a long way from that now, but she thought that she might just have enough years left in the LAPD to get him where she needed him to be. He would need to study hard. There were classes and exams that he would have to take to be eligible, but she could take him with her. There would be a place for him in Internal Affairs. He was still only a reserve officer, but with just a few changes to his training, that could change. Sharon could sponsor him through those changes.

"You see the world in a way that very few would, or could, given everything that you have seen and experienced during your time here. You look for the right in people, Buzz. Even when most of us are not sure that it exists any longer. You believe that at their core people are fundamentally good, that they want to do good. It also puts you in a unique position to be able to see the bad when it is present. I know that you wanted to be an officer and you chose a different path for your mother's sake. You have been invaluable to this team. What I am suggesting is the opportunity for you to be invaluable to this department. You still want to be an officer, and I have supported that because I think that you have great potential. I just feel that your potential would be better suited stepping beyond the camera and beyond your reserve status."

He didn't know what to say. He truly did not. Often Buzz felt like he was in the background, barely seen and utilized when needed. He felt a little like his camera sometimes. He knew that his work was important. He never regretted the contributions that he made, and he certainly never thought less of them. His team supported him when he began training for reserve officer status. They stood behind him. They helped where they could and offered advice. They taught him, as much as they tried to protect him. He was not blind to that. He had always appreciated it. He was beginning to feel now, though, that it was his turn. He wanted to return the favor. He wanted to protect those that he cared about.

Buzz never considered a career in Internal Affairs. It never crossed his mind, although he always understood the need for that division. He never thought that any of the officers assigned to IA were bad people, although some of them could do with some attitude adjusting. Or maybe that was his perception based upon being on the outside. The Captain was not so bad when they had gotten to know her. Now that he was learning the rulebook, Buzz understood better why it was that she adhered so closely to it. To protect the law they had to work inside of it, they could not place themselves above it.

He frowned. "A badge is not a shield." He watched her brows rise in confusion. "When you were in surgery someone said that. They said that…" Buzz returned her gaze, "They said that you said that our badges were not shields for us to hide behind. They protect the city, they do not protect us from ourselves."

"I did." Sharon could not recall now if it was Andy or Julio that she said those words to, but she did remember saying them. She believed them. "It is harder to look inside our own walls than it is to look outside of them," she repeated the rest of that statement. "It is a thankless, unappreciated, and often despised job, but it is necessary. We are human, Buzz, and even the best among us can stumble occasionally. The hard part is determining who can be saved, and who should be cut loose. Who is merely lost, and which officers should be forgotten." Sharon leaned back in her chair. "I have fired officers that needed to be. I have seen them taken away in handcuffs. I have also sent them to rehab, and watched them flourish after they returned. I have stood between officers whose reputations would be tarnished by a baseless accusation and those casting the stones. I have rarely been thanked. In the end, the city was safer for those that I could save, and it and this department were safer when I had to let one go. If you go with me, there will be times when you hate this job. You will hate yourself. You will probably hate me. But you will be able to look at yourself in the mirror. You will sleep well." Her gaze shifted and she looked out into the Murder Room. Activity there had settled down. "You will know that the people that you care about are as safe as you can make them."

He followed her gaze. Buzz watched the Lieutenants, Amy and Julio go about their usual duties. There was some chatter, although they couldn't hear it. "Most of the camera and electronic equipment is mine," he pointed out. "Who will they get to operate it?"

A smile curved Sharon's lips. "We will find someone. We won't leave them in the lurch." She tilted her head and arched her brows at him. "So, is that a yes?"

Buzz turned in his seat and looked at her again. A smile slowly blossomed. It lit up his blue eyes. "When do we start?"

There was still much to discuss and forms that would need to be signed and completed. Sharon had a list of classes that he would have to take at the Academy. They would work his schedule around the course load, and exchange experience for a couple of them. Most of them he had already completed for his reserve training. She could not contain her smile as she sent Buzz back to work. She looked through the glass walls around her office and into the Murder Room again. She caught Andy looking back at her. When his head tilted in askance Sharon nodded once. She had not told him what she was planning but he seemed to have guessed correctly. Sharon watched him stand as Buzz walked by. He slapped the younger man on the shoulder and shook his hand. Through her open door Sharon could hear him congratulating him. The others were slow to follow suit, but they did.

Sharon drew a breath and let it out slowly. Whatever her concerns had been leading up to today, she knew that they were unnecessary. She could count on Andy to be the first to have her back. He had been the first to do that four years ago when she made the move to join this team. Now he was leading the way as she prepared to leave it. It was always Andy. He was important to her even before she had known it. Sharon allowed her gaze to drift a bit. Her smile softened. She only wished that he would not discount his ability to lead. Buzz was not the only one with potential. But then, she might be biased. Heaven knew how much she loved that man. She shook her head to clear it and rose from behind her desk. Sharon decided to join her team, while they were still _her_ team. There was work to be done, but they could have this moment. The time that they had left together was fleeting. The clock was ticking again, but the path in front of them was about to broaden.

It would not be easy. She would miss this. She would miss them. For now, however, they were celebrating Buzz's new opportunity. They were congratulating her promotion. Whatever line had existed before was swept away. She would not allow it to be drawn again. Whatever happened after today, she would greet the possibilities with an open mind; the potential that lay before them created hope. To live in a place where duty was not an afterthought. Where accountability was not taken for granted.

A place where killing was not a game for those sworn to protect the innocent.

 ** _~FIN_**


End file.
